To Temper the Soul
by A. X. Zanier
Summary: When Darien is shot its a race to discover who and why before they can strike again. Part of TIMA. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Yet another out of sync story that did indeed get the beta treatment (Thanks WorkerCaste) and is therefor reasonably worthy of posting here.

Author: A. X. Zanier

Rating: PG-13/R (Language, violence, adult situations)

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or basic story ideas to "The Invisible Man." Any additional characters or ideas are mine.

Timeline: Several weeks after "Fallen"

Spoilers: Small references to MFN1&2, TDYK, the Pilot, Germ Theory, Insensate, Tiresias

Comments: This incident is vaguely referred to in "Multiple Choice." I make some off hand mention of something in one fic and get two big honking plot bunnies out of it. I'm not sure if it was a good deal or not. BTW the other plot bunny created "Out in the Cold."

To Temper the Soul

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An amazing woman, Helen Keller, who suffered through much as a child once said, "Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, ambition inspired, and success achieved."

The amount a single person can endure and recover from is astounding, but what I've learned is that when the suffering is shared there is nothing that cannot be achieved. 

Bobby Hobbes stood leaning against the wall just like he had been for the last couple of hours. He was trying not to think, trying not to let his guilt eat away at him, trying to hold it together until his duty here was discharged. How so many things could go wrong in so short a time always amazed him and in this week alone more things had gone wrong than had in the entire previous year. Or so it seemed and, considering what the year had been like, that was truly saying something.

He now wished he'd listened to Fawkes when he said the meet stank to high heaven. When his 'thief sense' kicked in to tell him things were going to go bad. But no, Hobbes had made some offhanded commentary about Fawkes being paranoid and sent him on his way, only to have him bellow for help mere moments later when his presence was discovered. There is only so much an invisible man can do when the bad guys are wearing thermal glasses and seem to want nothing more than to capture you.

When Hobbes appeared it turned into a firefight. Not the best thing to have happen in the semi-public area near the cruise ship dock. Good thing it was early Sunday morning, there were few people about. He was slowly forced back along Harbor Drive until they ended up in front of the Maritime museum. A pirate ship. In the middle of San Diego. Which he was being forced to use as cover. He heard a commotion as Darien tried to break free of the hold on him and quicksilvered in hopes of getting away. Hobbes had laid down some cover fire figuring that retreat and escape was the important thing at the moment. They'd deal with the bad guys later, once they had a chance to regroup.

He'd screwed up though. The covering fire worked to chase away the majority of them, but one was doing this odd dance a dozen yards away and trying to get his gun aimed at him so Hobbes tossed off a couple rounds in his direction, intending a shot across the bow and no more. Instead there was a scream of pain and the guy stopped his dance and took off after his buddies.

It was the sudden appearance of Fawkes lying unmoving on the ground that caused his heart to drop to his shoes. Holstering his gun he ran to his fallen partner to try to discover what was wrong. Had he been hit in the head again? Or maybe just had the wind knocked out of him? He was lying sprawled half on his side breathing in shallow pants. A quick exam told Bobby the worst. Fawkes had been shot in the back. 

Quite possibly by Bobby himself.

If Fawkes hadn't opened his eyes and moaned just then Bobby might have pulled out his gun and put one of his bullets into his own head to drive away the all encompassing guilt of what he had done. With Fawkes' return to consciousness Bobby's protective instinct, instead of the need to wallow and suffer, kicked in. He had back-up on the way in moments. Fawkes had claimed he was fine, that it didn't hurt even though there was a pool of blood slowly spreading out beneath him.

If only he'd realized what that meant.

"Bobby, what's wrong?" 

He opened eyes that he hadn't remembered closing to see Alyx standing before him. She looked tired and was carrying her usual bags with her. He hated having to do this now. Hated having to ruin her homecoming after being gone a week working for the NSA... NRA, or whoever had bought her this time. Hated to have to be the one to tell her.

"Kid," his throat tightened convulsively and he forced himself to swallow. "Kid, you need to come with me."

She tipped her head slightly to the side and then nodded. "Let me just toss my bags inside." She stepped past him and opened the door to her apartment and stepped in. 

Bobby followed her and stood beside the door as she moved to set her bags on the dining table. She'd made some changes in the last few months and he had to admit he liked them. She looked over the pile of mail that was stacked neatly on her counter and he debated asking her to hurry, telling her that there was little time to waste, when she turned to look at him.

"How bad?" she asked in a barely audible voice.

Why should he be surprised? "Bad enough. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. He's just as close to you." She walked over to him and set a hand on his arm. "You're more his brother than Kevin ever took the time to be."

Bobby released a huge sigh that bordered on a sob. "Thanks, kid. Lets get moving, okay?"

She only nodded. Right now it was obvious that he needed what little support he would allow her to give so she kept her emotions in check and tried not to let the despair and guilt that came off of him in aching waves to affect her more than necessary. Poor Bobby was blaming himself for whatever happened. She held her silence until they were ensconced in the darkened interior of the van. "You shouldn't blame yourself, Bobby."

He gave a harsh bark of laughter. "On this occasion that is exactly where the blame rests, kid."

Alyx was unable to pry an explanation out of him and in truth didn't try very hard. He was hurting to such an extreme amount that she was more than a little concerned for him. Forcing him to tell what she would learn eventually anyway would do far more harm than good. When they arrived at Fort Leavitt instead of going to the Agency building she knew it was truly serious. The only other time Darien had been anywhere near this hospital was when Arnaud had infected him with that flu virus. The Official was not very fond of risking the knowledge of quicksilver getting out and made it clear that hospitals were out of the question even in a life or death situation.

So if Darien was here, the 'Fish had to know about it and approve.

Bobby escorted her through the maze of hallways to a private room on the third floor of the building. The blinds over the window facing the hall were pulled shut, but she knew Darien was within, knew he was dozing, knew he was in a state of severe depression. She waited for Bobby to tell her what was going on.

"Go ahead in. I'll get Claire." He began to move away and stopped. "Don't hold what he says against him. He's not really himself right now." On that confusing note he walked away to find Claire, who was probably looking over the latest batch of test results and seeing no change. He didn't have the heart to tell Alyx anything else. He didn't want to even hint at what she was going to find in that room; he had trouble facing it. Had trouble facing what he had done to his partner, his best friend. Which made it almost impossible to face Alyx. He hadn't destroyed one life with his friendly fire; he'd destroyed two.

Alyx watched him walk away with his shoulders slumped and a decided lack of energy in his usually brisk stride. She waited until he was out of sight down the hallway before opening the door and slipping into the room. She adjusted her eyes to the dim light to see Darien lying on his stomach on a specially designed bed that both supported and restrained him. There was a sheet pulled up to about mid back, which was bare, but there were also straps holding him in place.

"Go away Hobbes. I don't want any more of your damn apologies." he growled at the far wall.

"I'll be sure to tell him that." Alyx said quietly.

Darien twitched and then slowly rotated his head until he could see her. "So you're finally back. Did you show up just to ogle the freak? To get one last look before the harvesting party? Or are you going to help, maybe make the first incision yourself?" The anger in his voice was overshadowed by the desperate fear that she couldn't help but feel. He was terrified, angry, and part of him was hoping she was here to save him. Then he closed himself off, actually managed to stop projecting his feelings to her, holding everything he felt inside where it belonged.

Alyx held her temper and wished she knew what the hell was going on. "Dare, you're free to have the gland removed and walk out of our lives whenever you wish. You decided to tell Claire 'no'."

Darien squeezed his eyes shut and ground his teeth in frustration. "Just get out." Her careless comment had ripped through him like a knife.

Alyx didn't leave; instead she closed the distance between them and ran her fingers lightly through his hair. She was more than a little confused. It was obvious he was hurt -- he was hooked to a half dozen monitors as well as an IV -- but for some reason she couldn't figure out where he was injured and he was not giving away any more secrets today. 

His hand came up and grabbed her wrist, holding it painfully tight. "I said, 'get out'." He threw her hand away from himself. Not wanting her to touch him, not wanting her pity or false words of comfort.

Alyx was tired and her temper short after the week she'd had. She'd arrived home to find Bobby on her doorstep, guilt ridden, Darien in a high security hospital, hurt, and he wanted to just shove her away for no apparent reason. "What the hell did I do?" she snapped at him. "I find out you've been hurt and you go off on me. All I want to know is what's going on and... and..." her momentary anger melted away. "Dare, what happened, please?"

It dawned on him that she didn't know, that her earlier commentary was not an intentional jab to cause him more pain, and just a simple statement of the facts. For a moment he was tempted to give in, to tell her what happened, to allow her to console him, but instead he pulled himself farther away from her, from everyone. "Ask the Keeper, she'll be happy to tell you I'm sure." He turned away from her to stare at the far wall he had memorized the day before. "You once said that if I wanted you to leave you would, no questions, no arguments. Has that changed?"

Alyx stiffened at his words. She had thought they had worked past everything. That he understood. She twisted the ring about her finger in nervousness. "No, that hasn't changed. If that's what you really want; will make you happy."

He swallowed hard. He had to do this for her. 

"Its what I want. Go." He shut his eyes and tried to convince his ears not to work so that he would not hear her protest. Instead all he heard after a moment was the soft click of the door closing. Turning his head back around and opening his eyes he found her gone. Just to be sure he quicksilvered his eyes and still there was nothing, she had really left. Without a word. Letting the quicksilver flake away his eyes fell upon the small table within his reach. On it lay the pitcher of water, a plastic cup with a straw sticking out of it, and... a ring. Reaching out with a shaking hand he picked it up and brought it closer to look at. With a sinking heart he gazed upon the ring he'd given her and that she'd finally chosen to wear only a couple months ago. Closing his fist tightly about it he let out a shaky breath and reminded himself that this was what he wanted. It was for the best. Once she knew the truth she'd want no part of him except out of pity and pity was the one thing he did not want to see from her.

Pulling his hand in close he closed his eyes and tried to make himself believe what he'd said to her.

Bobby found Alyx sitting in the small lounge area down the hall from Darien's room. Her head was in her hands and she was shaking. He had to wonder what she was doing out here when she should be with Darien. Unless... Fawkes was being a damn fool. Had probably thrown her out of the room and she, being the kind soul that she was, had left. He needed to convince her to go back in, she was their only hope to bring him out of the depression he'd fallen into.

"Kid, why are you out here?"

She lifted her head; her eyes red rimmed from unshed tears. "What happened, Bobby?"

The sadness and confusion in her voice was audible even to him. "I..." he sighed. "Be easier if the Keep explains it to you." He sat down next to her. "He needs you, kid."

She shook her head. "He doesn't want me near him, Bobby. He asked me to leave and I won't go back."

Bobby frowned. He hadn't expected Fawkes to do that. To tell her to leave for good. It didn't make any sense. It wasn't that long ago he'd nearly gone over the edge when he thought Alyx was dead, why would he push her away? "He didn't mean it."

"Yes he did, Bobby. Let's find Claire. I want to know why my heart's just been broken." She didn't move though, couldn't find the energy to even shift back into the hard cushion of the sofa. "I..." 

He watched as she brought a hand back up to rub her forehead. He got to his feet and held out a hand, which she took, and he helped her up. "I'm sorry, kid." He didn't know what else to say right now, the two of them had been through hell in recent weeks and now this. "Come on, the Keep's this way." He led her down the halls to a small lab Claire was using to try to solve the current problem. She was frowning at a series of X-rays when they came in.

"Alyx, I'm so sorry." Claire said in a tired voice.

"Why do you guys keep apologizing to me? I'm fine. Just tell me what happened." Alyx moved to stand in front of the X-rays.

"Darien was shot, Alyx. He's..." Claire paused and took a deep breath. "He's paralyzed from the waist down."

Alyx held very still for a long moment before speaking. "Did you administer the anti-inflammatory steroids?"

Claire blinked. "Yes, as well as Sygen. It's experimental, but there has been good results with it." She wasn't all that surprised that Alyx had figured it out with very little information. "We can't remove the bullet without causing more damage, though. At least not yet."

"How long ago did this happen?" Alyx asked quietly as she looked over the X-rays.

"Three days ago, kid. Sunday morning." Hobbes answered from across the room. He'd decided he needed to sit down for this. "It was my fault."

"Bobby, it was an accident." Claire said as she turned to face him. "It was not your fault."

"Friendly fire isn't, Keep." Hobbes shook his head, as far as he was concerned it was his fault and somehow he would make it up to Fawkes, though he had no idea how.

"How bad?" Alyx asked. She was watching Bobby, who looked so sad that it frightened her.

"The bullet lodged between L-3 and L-4 and is putting pressure on the nerves there. The spinal cord does not appear to be severed and there is minimal damage to the bones, but it has affected him adversely." Claire paused, wondering if she should continue; Alyx's face was a complete blank. "He has partial feeling through hips, but none in his legs. We're keeping him as immobile as possible to keep the bullet from shifting into a worse position."

"So if the bullet were removed the pressure would be relieved. What chance of recovery then?" Alyx turned to face Claire for a second before looking at the X-rays again.

"Alyx, we don't dare even try..."

Alyx cut her off. "Me, Claire. I should be able to remove it without doing any additional damage. I didn't practice my fine control for nothing you know."

"Keepy, can she do that?" Bobby didn't want to hope, didn't want to risk being told more bad news.

Claire had a small frown on her face. "Maybe. This isn't like yanking a bullet out of muscle. One slip and the damage will be permanent."

"Will he get better if it stays in?" Alyx snapped at her. "Will it hurt to try?"

"Claire, we have to do something." Bobby tried to keep the pain out of his voice and was only partially successful.

"Let me look into it. Maybe cobble together something for you to practice on. To test if it's even feasible." Claire was thinking quickly. If there was even a chance Alyx could pull this off it might be worth trying. "Go sit with Darien for a while. I'll need at least an hour."

Alyx snorted. "I think not. I'll find the cafeteria and get something to eat. Call me when you're ready." She looked over the two of them and then turned and left the room.

"What the hell?" Claire turned to Bobby in confusion.

"Fawkes threw her out and told her not to come back." Bobby explained.

Claire threw up her hands in exasperation. "What is going on in his fool head?"

Bobby shrugged, not entirely sure. "He's been shoving us all away. Maybe... maybe he doesn't want to saddle her with half a man." he said quietly. 

"Alyx doesn't care about things like that." Claire picked up her stethoscope and the metal file containing the notes she'd been making. "He needs her, he needs all of us." She moved to the door with Bobby beside her. "And we need him."

"You know that, Keepy. I know that, but Fawkes doesn't. He still thinks we're gonna h... har... harvest the gland and then abandon him." Darien had admitted his fears to Bobby shortly after being told the news and no matter how many times either he or Claire tried to assure him it wouldn't happen he refused to believe. Instead he had simply endured what he must and done his best to ignore everything and everyone else the rest of the time.

"So since he's hurt and afraid he has to spread the pain around to the rest of us. Like we don't hurt enough already." They stopped outside the door to his room so that Claire could calm and compose herself. Yelling at him would do no good. 

"Claire he's scared. He thinks he losing what little life he had managed to find in this mess." 

Bobby knew his friend very well. Knew that until the kid had arrived his emotional state had still been more than a little precarious. Bobby had watched him carefully and never knew which Fawkes he would be seeing at work on any given day. He had been so desperate to get away some days. Though he had to admit the way Fawkes had stood up to the Official, even going so far as to end up in Stage Five to show he was serious, was quite impressive. To no avail, but he'd done it and Bobby... well Bobby had proved his loyalty -- he thought -- when he'd gone with Fawkes instead of trying to bring him in.

Fawkes had come back so far since then, had stuck it out and found not only some happiness, but also the solution to the problem with the gland and -- to the amazement of everyone -- he had chosen to stay. With the gland. He refused to discuss why, but Bobby suspected it was because of the kid, Alyx. He could understand why, especially now. He looked at Claire, the beautiful, far too intelligent for the likes of him, Keeper, Claire, and knew exactly how Fawkes felt. They had been cautiously seeing each other and sorting out exactly how far their feelings for each other ran. If it was actually more than casual interest spurred on by months of flirtatious comments and a close work environment. Oh yes, he could understand why Fawkes might consider staying. When you find 'the one' you can endure almost anything for her. Including the pain of sending her away to save her? Perhaps. Some days Fawkes was too noble for his own good.

"What do we do? I never thought he'd send her away."

Claire sighed. "I wish I knew." She opened the door and stepped into the darkened room. He refused to allow the light to be turned up unless absolutely necessary, refused a television, radio, books -- even his comic books -- and just stared at the wall or slept. This time he appeared to be sleeping; one hand in a tightly clenched fist just under his chin.

Bobby waited next to the door as Claire moved over to the bed and checked the various monitors and made notes in the file she held. He knew Darien had been lucky so far. He was alive and there were no signs of an infection. Claire gently turned over his right arm and checked the monitor. He understood why she wanted to wait to give him the counteragent, that she needed his system as normal as possible so that the other drugs would have a chance to work. But the danger of having Darien go into seizures was always present since the timing of the severe headaches was often a bit nebulous. Ultimately it was up to Darien to tell them if he was feeling uncomfortable with the level of the headaches that would inevitably come.

When Darien opened his eyes part of him was hoping it was Alyx moving about the room, that she had ignored his request and come back, to wait out his stubbornness, but the soft sound of a pen on paper dashed that faint hope. He shifted slightly and saw Bobby standing near the door of the room with a forced smiled on his face that looked far more like a grimace of pain.

"What now, Hobbes?" he sounded like he'd swallowed a truckload of gravel.

Bobby moved to sit in the chair beside the bed so that Darien wouldn't have to strain his neck to look up at him. He wanted to apologize yet again, but knew it would only anger his friend. He had to do something, anything to bring him back out of the pit of despair he had fallen into. "You know

Fawkes, I never thought you were cruel, but I guess I was wrong about that."

"Bobby," Claire said in a shocked tone.

Darien clenched his jaw and glared at Hobbes. He had a good idea what Hobbes was talking about, but chose not to acknowledge it. "Cruel, what do you know about cruel? Leaving me strapped to this bed while I wonder if I'll wake up tomorrow, if tonight will be the night they do it 'cause the fat bastard is tired of paying for a broken receptacle. Wondering if you'll bother to try to save me as well as the damn gland. That's all you ever cared about. Protecting the damn gland."

Bobby kept his look bland while the anger built inside. "Claire give us a minute, would you?"

"Yes Claire, leave so that Bobby can follow whatever orders he's been given." Darien growled. "Put me out of my god damned misery."

Claire looked shocked, but did as Bobby asked. 

Once Bobby was sure she was gone he spoke, his voice quiet, controlled, and full of anger. "Fawkes, shut the hell up." He watched as Darien retreated into himself, but this time he wasn't having any of it. "You are going to listen to me whether or not you want to." He paused to calm himself, just shouting at him wouldn't work, he had to get through that thick head and make him _think_ finally. "You want the gland out? Fine, tell the Keeper, she'll have it out within a week and you can get the hell out of our lives once and for all."

Darien went pale at the words, nearly the same words Alyx had used and with nearly the same effect on him. Pain, heart wrenching pain. "Go away."

"No! You want to wallow in self-pity, go right ahead. Want to yell at me for screwing up and doing this to you. Great, I deserve it. But you had better realize that I would trade places in a heartbeat if I could. That Claire is doing her damnedest to find a solution so that you stand a chance of walking again. That the kid.... That Alyx..." he trailed off. "How could you do that to her? She'd walk through hell itself for you and you throw her away, over this?"

Darien found himself fighting tears. Hobbes was right; he didn't want to hear any of this. Wanted to get up and leave, to walk away from this situation, and he couldn't. He was stuck here. "Yes, damn it. Over this. Shit Bobby, I have nurses watching me twenty-four hours a day. I can't feed myself, can't wash myself, hell it takes two guys just so I can take a damn piss. You think I want to subject her to that for the rest of her life?" He gulped in air, not wanting to think about what his life was going to be like from now on.

"You think that little of her do you?" Darien's argument, though valid to a point, meant nothing. "You are a fool. She doesn't care if you go off on her while quicksilver mad, you really think stupid shit like that will bother her?" Bobby got to his feet. "Even I know her better than that."

Darien closed his eyes and held the ring in his hand even tighter. He couldn't subject her to that. Didn't want to watch as her feelings for him changed to nothing but pity and disgust. So that she would stay only out of some warped obligation to him that had nothing to do with the relationship they had now. He didn't want to watch that light in her eyes die. "Bobby, I can't do that to her." It was barely a whisper.

Bobby shook his head. "You know Fawkes you're right. She's too damn good for you. She's better off without you." In complete disgust Bobby left the room. Closing the door he found Alyx standing in the hallway and knew she had heard everything one way or another. Not that he thought she'd been eavesdropping, but because when it concerned Fawkes she always seemed to know. "Damn, kid I..."

"No Bobby. You said what was needed." She raised a shaky hand to her eyes and wiped away the tears that she had weakened enough to let flow.

Bobby moved to her and enfolded her in a gentle hug. "Go in there, kid. Even if he ignores you he needs you there."

"I can't." When he tried to protest she silenced him. "It's an old promise I made to both myself and him."

"Hell kid, he's being a stubborn fool." He gave her a last squeeze and released her. "Both of you are too damn stubborn."

Alyx sniffed. "Ah, you wouldn't have it any other way and you know it." 

"True." He glanced back at the door. "Let him stew for a while. Maybe he'll come to his senses." Tossing and arm over her shoulders they went in search of Claire. Maybe she'd have some news, good news.

Darien stared at the closed door for several long minutes, he could just hear the voices out in the hall and knew Bobby was talking to Alyx, but could not quite understand the words. Bobby's words had hurt. Darien would never really understand what Alyx saw in him, why she was willing to allow herself to become so intertwined with his life, why, on his say so alone, she would walk away. Even with the memory of how she felt about him to savor, to cherish, it still brought no true understanding.

Shifting, he felt the pain shoot up his back yet again, but it no longer gave him any hope. He could feel where the bullet had struck him. It was a dead ache, like a deep muscle bruise. It was lower that was gone. Where only phantom pain existed, where the itchy foot was nothing but a figment of his imagination. Claire had told him once the bullet was stable, or hopefully removed, he'd be able to sit on his own. Would be able to function quite easily in a wheelchair if the worst were to happen, but she reminded him not to expect the worst. That there was a great deal of hope.

Who did she think she was kidding? He knew the longer the bullet remained lodged in his spine the more likely damage would be permanent even if the spinal cord wasn't severed. There could be more than enough damage just from secondary swelling to keep him wheelchair bound for the rest of his life.

He really wished he hadn't read that copy of Gray's anatomy when he was a teenager, but he'd wanted to try and understand Kevin and he'd thought that if he could talk to him about some of the weird shit he did that they might find a common ground. It hadn't worked, but the section on the spine was now fresh in his memory and he knew that his chances at recovery were becoming less and less with every hour.

Unclenching his fist he set the ring back down on the table and just stared at it until he drifted off into an uneasy slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

Part II

Bobby looked at the two women as they argued over making the attempt to remove the bullet lodged in Darien's spine. Both were tired and upset and it was showing. Neither of them had gotten along very well in months and with the revelation that Alyx's lab had solved the removal issue, well it had pissed off the Keeper to no end. He had tried to explain to her that it didn't really matter 'who' had solved the riddle, that the solution had been found was the important thing, but she'd just gotten angry at him as well. 

Things had been shaky between Alyx, Darien, and Claire for months. Ever since Alyx had come back and Claire had followed the Official's orders and acted as The Keeper instead of the friend they had thought they were turning to and for a while it looked like neither Fawkes nor the kid was ever going to forgive her for that. Then had come the betrayal by... by... he still couldn't believe it. Things had seemed to improve between the girls after that, though Fawkes still resented not being told, being forced to endure the heartache of Alyx's death, fake though it was. 

The gland solution was the last straw for Claire. Any friendship that had developed over the years was shoved to the far corner of her mind and left to rot. A causality of working for the Agency and being forced to divide loyalties.

But right now they needed to work together. "Girls, please." Both turned to look at him and neither looked very happy. "Claire if the bullet is removed what's the worse that will happen?"

"He'll remain the way he is. Be confined to a wheelchair." Claire answered in irritation.

"Best case?" Bobby asked.

"Full recovery with no side effects." Alyx answered.

"And if you do nothing?" Bobby was not used to being the one to point out the obvious in the medical area, but even he knew what would happen if they did nothing.

"Damn it Bobby. We know, but its too risky even with her 'talent'." Claire snapped. 

Alyx growled in frustration and moved over to the table where a coffee maker had been set up and ripped open a packet of sugar. She poured the contents onto the table top ignoring Claire's protests all the while. Concentrating she lifted a single crystal of sugar to float in the air over the table, then another, and another, until there was a dancing ring of sugar hanging in the air; swaying and undulating to a pattern that could only be found in her mind. Alyx then lifted the open packet and moved the crystals back into it until there was not a single piece hanging in the air. Holding the re-filled packet in her hand she turned to Claire. "My fine control is more than adequate. It's for blasting that my control sucks. And you know I'll be able to feel the bullet." She set the packet back on the table. "The longer we wait the harder it will be to remove and you know it."

Claire glared at her for a minute and then sighed. "All right. I'll prep an OR. Can you be ready in two hours?"

Alyx nodded.

Bobby realized that they'd worked it out. That they were going to try to save Fawkes and maybe save himself in the process. "What do we tell Fawkes?"

"The truth, just don't tell him its me doing this. Explain it's a new technique or something." Alyx was thinking fast on her feet again. "Hell, outright lie to him if you have to."

"He won't like it. He'll think we're going on a gland hunt." Bobby knew that was true. Poor Darien just refused to believe that there could be another option.

"He can stay awake. He can tell us if there is any unusual pain. It won't be comfortable, but it will keep him from freaking." Alyx had moved back to the light box to look over the X-rays again. "Claire, I just want him to get well."

"Yeah, me too. I'll let him know." She moved to the small fridge and pulled out a vial of counteragent. "I better do this as well. Don't need anything unexpected during the surgery." She picked up the other items she needed and headed to the door. "Alyx, this will work."

Once she was gone Bobby watched Alyx who was doing her damnedest to hold herself together. "You have to forgive her eventually." When her shoulders slumped and she leaned against the wall he wondered if maybe this wasn't the best time for this.

"Bobby, I do, but she's so angry at me. The moment I get near her..." She shook her head. "I try to stay neutral, but sometimes she goes at me on purpose. Between Darien being upset at her and my lab... She's not ready yet. It won't get in the way of helping Darien, I swear it. I'd walk away first." Alyx wanted to slide down the wall and sit on the floor with her head in her hands, but didn't.

"Ah, hell kid." He'd forgotten, again, how sensitive she was to the emotional state of the rest of them. It was part of the reason she'd kept her distance at first. She'd had enough trouble dealing with her own emotions without having to deal with all of theirs. Even after she'd gained control she could read those closest to her without effort, without meaning to. He knew how hard it was for her some days to not let herself be affected by those around her. He couldn't imagine living that way. He was paranoid enough without having to deal with everyone else's fears. "It'll get better. Just give her some time."

"Of course, Bobby." She shifted, rolling her shoulders, and he heard her neck pop softly. "I'm gonna rest for a bit. Will you... will you go check on him for me, please?"

"Sure. Its not like he can throw me out right now." It was a poor attempt at humor, but it did garner a sad smile from her. "I might as well take advantage of it." He watched her move to one of the hard plastic chairs and not so much sit as collapse into it. "We'll get him back."

She could only nod and close her eyes. He hated seeing her like this, hated feeling like this, hated knowing all this was his fault. 

"Bobby it was not your fault. I will never believe that you caused this." Alyx was saying to him. Her eyes opened, looking eerily bright. "You're too damn good to have done this even by accident."

Bobby tried to swallow around the sudden lump in his throat. "Kid, I was the only one shooting in that direction. There was no one else." He could tell she still didn't believe, that she still had confidence in him and his ability, but he knew better. He'd put Fawkes in that bed and he would do what was necessary to fix it. Somehow. "Get some rest." 

She gave him a tired, lost sigh, and closed her eyes. He quietly left the room leaving her to find what rest and peace she could.

Darien jerked awake when a hand was laid on his shoulder blade, causing him to flinch uncontrollably and sending more pain shooting up his back. He groaned and held perfectly still until the pain faded to a dull ache that had become a constant companion. He wanted to go back to sleep, back to the dream, back to that false reality where he was not strapped to a bed unable to wiggle his toes or even feel if he still had them.

"Darien, I'm sorry to wake you, but I have some news." He didn't even bother to try to move his head to look at her. His Keeper never said anything that interested him any more. "We're going to remove the bullet in a little over an hour."

Darien stopped breathing for a moment as an instant of hope surged to the surface. It faded quickly as the reality of situation sank back in. Things couldn't have changed that much since yesterday, when she couldn't remove it, which meant it was more likely the gland she was going to remove. "Don't lie to me, Keeper. Unless you enjoy the torture."

"I'm not lying. There is a new technique for just these situations. It took some time to contact the specialist. He's prepping for the surgery now." He could hear her moving about and wondered what she was doing. "I'm going to give you a shot of counteragent as a precaution."

He turned his head to watch her as she approached the IV line with the syringe of blue liquid. Who knew if it was really counteragent or not. It could be a sedative that they'd added a bit of dye to. It wouldn't be the first time he'd been tricked that way. Looking at his right wrist, he had to admit it was time for a shot. He only had three segments left green and, now that he was paying attention, he realized he did have a headache. Still that dull distant knocking, but soon enough it would make itself known in full. As she injected the contents of the syringe into the line he felt relief when the familiar rush of counteragent hit him. "Why should I believe a thing you say?"

He saw her lips tighten, the way her brow knit, and knew he'd angered her and maybe something else as well. Maybe upset her with his admitting to his lack of trust. He hadn't really trusted her in months, not in matters beyond those in the Keep anyway. She had watched him fall into total and utter despair when Alyx had 'died' and done nothing to help him beyond treating the obvious symptoms of severe depression and alcoholic binges. Just telling him she was alive would have saved him so much heartache and pain. On one occasion she had shouted at him in frustration about why he wasn't angry with Alyx. She had deceived him as well. He had no way to explain it to her. His relief at having her alive overrode any thoughts of anger or resentment. Because of what Alyx was she had been able to experience and share the pain he'd gone through, which had helped him get beyond his fear of losing her again. That and the promise she had made to him.

That stopped his train of thought. He'd also made a promise during that week up at the cabin and just a few hours ago he'd broken it, shredded it, snapped it into pieces so small there was no way to put it back together. "Claire," his voice cracked on her name.

She chose to ignore the pain in his voice, or interpreted it as something else. "Darien you will be awake during the procedure." She checked his monitor and was satisfied to see it green. "At most there will be a local anesthetic. I just thought you'd want to know ahead of time." She glanced at the clock. "I have to get prepared. Orderlies will be by to get you in about half an hour." She gathered up the equipment and left the room without another word.

Darien closed his eyes, not wanting to think, not wanting to believe, not wanting to hurt anymore. Not wanting to hope. 

Bobby stood off to one side of the operating room in Darien's line of sight, hoping that his presence would ease the fear that was written on every line of Darien's body. He could hear the fast paced beeping that was the heart monitor, could see the numbers that showed his friend's blood pressure was far higher than normal. So far nothing had convinced him that they were going to remove the bullet and nothing else. The fact that he'd been told he would not be meeting the 'doctor' who would perform the procedure seemed to be the last bit of evidence he needed to convince himself something sinister was going to happen. Bobby could see it in his eyes. He was within seconds of vanishing from sight and that would not be good given the number of technicians in the room who were not cleared to know about Darien's little disappearing act.

Claire and Alyx came in then from the far door that Darien could not see. Both women were decked out in dark green scrubs including the masks. If it weren't for those eyes of hers you'd never know it was Alyx, her features were so well hidden. Claire moved over into Darien's line of sight and squatted down to look him in the eye. 

"Darien, I'm going to administer a local, but you will still feel to a degree. You need to tell us of any pain through your spine." Claire kept her voice even, soothing, but with little effect. "You need to relax, please."

Darien swallowed hard and closed his eyes for a moment. He could do this. He hadn't been practicing all this time for nothing. He took a few calming breaths and convinced his body to relax, his heart rate to slow, his blood pressure to come back down. He was unable to return it to normal, but it was better.

"Good, Darien. Perfect. If you can keep it like that everything will be fine." 

He opened his eyes keeping his breathing carefully controlled. "Claire, I... I'm sorry."

"Its all right. We'll deal with it later." He watched her pick up a nasty looking syringe filled with a clear liquid. "The local." She moved out of his direct line of sight. "You should feel a pinch and then a mild burning sensation. Like Lidocaine at the dentist's office."

"O... okay." Darien got out, still not feeling secure with this. But when seconds later he felt nothing more than what she described he was able to relax a bit more.

"Fifteen minutes, Darien." Claire was still off somewhere behind him so he watched Bobby who was nodding to him.

"Everything is fine, Fawkes." Bobby tried to reassure him. "Just do as the Keep says and you'll be outta here in no time." When this didn't seem to inspire the confidence he thought it should he try a different tack. "Fawkes, I won't let nothing happen to you."

"Bobby you can come sit next to him if you like." Claire said quietly. 

Bobby knew that wasn't standard, hell his being in here wasn't standard, but these were special circumstances and if he could help keep Fawkes calm he'd do whatever was needed. "Fawkes?"

"Ummm, yeah that might be a good idea." Darien somehow kept his voice steady, but the heart monitor gave it away.

Bobby grabbed one of those stools and pulled it over to sit near Fawkes' head. "Relax, Fawkes. Nothing is going to happen while I'm here. I don't bail on my friends, remember."

"I know, Hobbes." Darien took a moment to calm back down, to quiet his racing heart. Then he screwed up his courage and asked softly, "How's Alyx?"

Bobby was a little surprised. Maybe his words had sunk in. "Doing about as well as you. She hasn't even been home yet since getting back"

Darien closed his eyes for a long moment, but when he opened them his look was sad. He still believed he'd done the right thing in sending her away. She should have gone home, not hung around here waiting for another report of the worst. "Tell her to go home. I'm sure the Official has work for her."

Bobby didn't comment and didn't turn his head to look at the woman in question, who was standing just a few feet away and who, he was quite sure, had heard every soft spoken word. "Fawkes, the chief knows she's here and isn't worried about it right now. Hell, I've spent more time here than at the office the last few days." When it looked like Darien was going to protest Bobby shook his head. "Let us worry about the Official."

"Darien, tell me what you feel." Claire was standing at the far side of the table with a dull tipped probe. She touched several spots on his back in order to determine if he was numb enough to proceed. When she put the probe away she turned to Alyx and nodded. "Darien, you might feel a sensation of warmth; don't worry about it unless it becomes painful. Anything else and let us know."

"Okay." Darien replied with a voice gone faint. He watched as Bobby's eyes flickered from himself to whomever it was that was going to try and save his sorry ass. A moment later he did feel heat deep in his back. It wasn't really painful, just very odd.

"Darien you need to relax as much as you can now." Claire was doing that steady soothing voice she had perfected years ago and it seemed to work this time.

Bobby watched as Darien took in a deep breath and released it slowly. Then he turned to watch Alyx. Her hands hovered about an inch above Darien's back and her eyes were closed as she concentrated. He knew what she planned to do, knew that the heat Fawkes was feeling was a byproduct of her heating the bullet slightly to soften it and allow it to slide out easily from between the bones instead of being forced out. How she was managing to heat it enough to soften the metal and yet not burn Fawkes was beyond him and he hadn't even bothered to listen to the explanation. He did know she was going to have one hell of a headache afterwards. Claire already had medication and a place for her to sleep set up nearby.

Darien suddenly yelped and went dead pale, but Bobby could see the bullet hovering in the air and Claire held out a metal bowl for it to drop into with a clink of metal on metal. Alyx took the bowl and quickly left the room, swaying a bit as she did so, and Claire went to work cleaning the reopened wound and putting on a dressing.

"Fawkes, its over. Its out." Bobby rested a hand on his shoulder. 

"Really?" There was hope in that one word.

"Really. I promise. I'll show you the damn thing later." He looked from Darien to Claire, who had finished and was removing her mask.

She nodded to him. "Some drugs to keep down the swelling, some X-rays and we'll see how you're doing." She walked around the bed to look down at Darien. "Rest for a bit. The worst is over for now."

Darien nodded slowly, carefully, as if afraid he would jar something loose, and closed his eyes. Within moments he was asleep. Claire peeled off her gloves and ran her fingers through his hair like she'd seen Alyx do a hundred times and it seemed to work as he settled even deeper into a reasonably normal slumber for the first time in days.

"Keepy?" Bobby was wondering what would happen next.

"Everything went fine, but Alyx needs to speak to you." She turned to look at him. "Go on. I have to start the anti-inflammatory drugs and get him back to his room."

Bobby got to his feet. He knew there was nothing suspicious going on. She would do exactly what she just said she would. "Half an hour?"

"Yeah, we'll take turns sitting with him. We both need some sleep." Claire gave him a small smile and waved for him to go. "She'll be in the lab."

Bobby gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and left the room to find Alyx. She was right where Claire said she would be. She sat at the table sipping from a cup of coffee that she held gingerly in one hand. Her other was attempting to offer some sort of support to keep her head from hitting the table. It looked to be a losing battle.

She looked like crap and even he could tell she had one of her headaches. "Kid, take your meds." Bobby sat across from her.

"In a minute." She held up a plastic bag in which he could see the bullet. He tried not to flinch away from the evidence of his mistake. "Bobby you still using that Colt 1911?"

Her question surprised him. "Yeah, kid. Why?"

She handed him the bag and took a moment to rub her forehead. "There is no way in hell that's a .45 slug, Bobby."

Bobby took a look at the bullet through the clear plastic of the bag and had to admit she was probably right. They'd need to do a test fire of his gun and compare to be sure, but... "Wait, that means..."

"You didn't shoot Darien, Bobby. Someone else did." She waved at the bag. "Can you get that to Ebes..." she stopped dead, her face awash in pain.

"I know kid. I forget some days too." Bobby reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. He and Eberts had never really gotten along, but they did have fun, of a sort, in their mutual animosity. The kid, however, had been his friend as well as co-worker. They'd spent time off duty working on projects, trading stories, or just hanging out. It had hit her hard. After finding out the truth about her husband, the betrayal of one of her friends had hurt her deeply. "Its still Ms. 'Prickly' filling in. I'll get this to her." He gave her hand a last squeeze before releasing it. "We should know for sure by tomorrow. Get some rest, okay?"

"You too, Bobby." Alyx said in a subdued voice. "Oh, I told you so."

Bobby smiled as he got to his feet. "Yes, you did. Thanks." He appreciated her effort to grin at him. For once he didn't mind being told, 'I told you so' because this time it left him with a sense of relief and lightened heart. He hadn't done this to Fawkes; he hadn't shot his best friend. Leaving the room another thought struck him. If he hadn't done it, then who the hell had? And why? 

With those thoughts to spur him on he rushed from the hospital and to his van. He had to talk to the Official.

When Darien finally woke up sometime the next day he was feeling reasonably clearheaded. He did have to wonder if maybe Claire had snuck some sort of sleepy drug into him for, except when she specifically woke him up for some reason; he'd been sleeping since the bullet had been removed. He vaguely remembered having some X-rays taken as well as some other tests and remembered having a rather disjointed and confusing conversation with Bobby that he couldn't quite seem to remember. Something about Bobby not shooting him. 

He stretched slowly, being careful of the various wires that were still attached to him. His left arm ached from the IV that had been in place for days now. He felt stiff everywhere, like he'd done nothing but lie around for days, which was exactly what he'd been doing. His lower back ached, but there were none of the shooting pains that had happened before. He still couldn't feel anything below his waist, but he now had some small hope that he might.

Rotating his head, he was shocked to see Alyx sitting quietly in the one comfortable chair in the room holding a book rigged with a small light. Her feet were propped up on a rolling stool she must have swiped from somewhere else. She was wearing a pair of oversized dark green scrubs that were way too large for her and reminded him of the first time they had met. She appeared to have showered recently and her hair was pulled up into a loose bun. It was obvious that she had yet to go home and had most likely been here since yesterday morning or whenever it was that she had first shown up.

"What are you doing here?" He didn't even recognize his own voice, it was so rough. 

Alyx lifted her head to look at him. "Claire and Bobby needed to sleep. So I offered to sit with you. You've been out of it for a while." She turned off the small book light and set the book down. "You should have told someone you hadn't been sleeping."

Darien just blinked at her. He wasn't all that surprised that she'd figured it out. He'd been afraid to sleep. Afraid that if he closed his eyes and allowed himself to rest he'd never wake up again, or perhaps find himself glandless and cast away to some Agency asylum to rot for his remaining days. "You can go, I'll be fine." It came out gruffer than he intended, partially because of how his voice sounded. He could double as a fricking fog horn right now.

She stiffened. "Darien you made your choice about us, but unless you want to be a complete fool I am still your friend. You could treat me as such."

Her words hit hard mainly because she was right. Did he really want to push her that far? Avoid her altogether? Damn it, no, but how could he see her, be near her without hurting, hurting both of them. He must have lain there thinking for longer than he should have.

"Fine." she said quietly. She got to her feet and walked over to him. "I'll respect your decision, but for now you're stuck with me. Bobby will be here in a couple of hours and I'll leave then." She closed her eyes for a second. "Your Keeper has asked me to inform you that everything went very well and the swelling was minimal due to the removal." She opened her eyes. "You can lie on your left side for a while if you'd like."

Her voice was so soft he could barely hear her. "My side? How about on my back?"

Alyx shook her head. "Not yet. You still have this nifty hole back there." She stepped closer. "I can get one of the orderlies if you'd rather not have me help."

"No, that's okay." He was confused. Admittedly she'd preempted the decision he hadn't yet made, but still she was willing to help and without any obvious anger in her. "Alyx," She had moved to retrieve an odd looking cushion. "Thanks."

"Any time. Now lets do this." She set cushion on the bed and began shifting monitors and wires about so that he wouldn't get tangled as he moved. "All right. I'll shift your legs as you move your upper body. Your back might hurt a bit, but Claire has assured me there is no danger of damage so don't freak. Okay?"

Darien froze, suddenly not sure what to do. "This may sound silly, but how?"

"Just like you always do. It'll work. Trust me." Alyx had moved further down the bed with her hands on his legs, ready to shift them as he rolled.

Moving cautiously his shifted his left arm beneath him, being wary of the IV line, and rolled slowly until he was on his side. His balance was a bit off, but instead of flopping backwards he found himself supported by the cushion tucked snugly against his back and he relaxed back into it. Looking down he discovered Alyx making a few minor adjustments to his leg position and he became suddenly embarrassed. Isn't this what he was trying to protect her from? This was why he had told her to leave in the first place, this was what he'd been trying to save her from, and yet here she was doing it anyway.

She adjusted the blankets up a little higher and checked the lines and wires again just to make sure. Opening the drawer on the nightstand she reached in and pulled out a chain, the kind you put dog tags on. "Bobby found the ring and was worried you might lose it." She handed him the chain from which the ring hung to him. "He said you could 'thank him later, Ralph'."

Darien took the chain and slipped it over his head, but found himself unable to meet her eyes.

"Are you hungry?"

He lifted his head in surprise. He'd hadn't been hungry in days, though he'd forced himself to eat at least a small amount of what was shoved at him three times a day. It was never enough to satisfy the guy feeding him or Claire, for that matter, but it was all he was willing to do. What was the point after all? Not being able to walk was not a life as far as he was concerned, so why bother trying to sustain said life? Right now he truly was nothing more than that 'receptacle' the Official had dubbed him as ages ago. It was not how he wanted to live. Forced to rely on others for everything. His friends growing distant because he was too 'inconvenient' for their lives. Too much work for too little reward. It sure wasn't his sterling wit they hung around for, nor his ability to memorize useless quotes.

He found himself growing angry. "Enjoying this are you? How about a year from now? You still going to be willing to help me roll over? Or will you have gone away like I told you to."

"Excuse me?" Alyx sounded offended.

"Like I can't figure it out on my own. Six months from now I'll be forgotten. No one wanting to bother with the effort it would take to have anything to do with me. Another failed experiment for the Agency to sweep under the rug and pretend never happened." Darien's throat was becoming increasingly sore, his voice lower and rougher. He watched her look harden, the muscles in her jaw clenching and he realized she was truly angry with him, something he hadn't seen in ages. Not since early in her stay at the Agency.

"Well, now I know who to nominate for the asshole of the year award. You want me out of your god damned life, you got it." She moved to press the call button near the door and seconds later one of the orderlies assigned to him came in. "Flannery, would you please help Mr. Fawkes get cleaned and dressed while I get his breakfast?" Her voice had returned to something resembling normal for the man. "Some of his clothes are in the bag across the room. His Doctor thought he might be more comfortable in them." 

"Of course Miss Silver." Flannery said as he moved to retrieve the bag and begin readying the necessary items to help Darien get cleaned up.

"You will eat what I bring you. By yourself." Alyx's voice was hard, cold and he found himself unable to look away. "You are not some squalling infant incapable of fending for himself, no matter how much you are behaving like one. Grow up and deal." With a quick turn the door came open on its own and she stormed out, anger written in every movement of her body.

"Mr. Fawkes," Darien tipped his head slightly to focus on Flannery who was holding an oddly shaped bottle. It was looking like today it wasn't going to take two guys to help him piss.

He sighed. "Lets get this over with."

"Yes, Mr. Fawkes I'd like nothing better."

Darien found this strange, even though his own attitude had sucked Flannery had been unfailingly kind to him previously, trying to draw him into a conversation about a recent sporting event or some other random tidbit, but not today. Today he was coolly neutral and did what was necessary and nothing more. He had Darien do as much as he was able and only helped when specifically asked. By the time everything was done Darien was feeling tired, sore, and angry. He was the injured party; he was not able to do most of this stuff himself. He truly believed this. How the hell was he supposed to put on a pair of underwear when he couldn't move his damn legs? 

In the end he was dressed in a pair of his pajama bottoms and a tank top he habitually slept in. The IV line and other items were disconnected, which felt oddly freeing. He had to admit being in his own clothes felt wonderful and he was able to get a bit more comfortable on the bed with the head slightly elevated, but still on his side.

When Alyx finally returned with a tray covered in more food he could eat in a week, he was beginning to regret his comments to her, but at the same time he knew he would not apologize or back down. He watched as she and Flannery conversed quietly for a moment before he left. Then she set the tray on the rolling table and rolled it over to Darien. She made some adjustments to its height and then stepped away.

"Eat." Was all she said before moving back to the chair she'd been in before and opening her book.

He stared at the food, his throat dry, his stomach roiling with combined nausea and a hunger he hadn't taken notice of in days. He couldn't even bring himself to pick up the fork. What was the point ultimately?

"Fawkes, just eat or I will hold your nose shut and force feed you." Darien twitched at the lack of feeling in those words. No emotion at all, but the fact that she had called him Fawkes twice now, instead of Darien, or her more personal Dare, convinced him she'd do it and with not one tiny glimmer of sympathy in her eyes or carriage. Fingering the ring on the chain, he picked up the fork and stabbed at the scrambled eggs on the plate and forced the small piece in his mouth. With that one simple act his hunger blossomed full and he had to force himself to go slow. 

By the time Bobby had arrived the tray was bare. 


	3. Chapter 3

Part III

When Bobby strolled into Darien's room just after ten AM, he was followed by two armed agents who took up positions on either side of the door. A lot had happened in the last thirty-six hours. He found Fawkes lying on his side, facing away from the door, with the remains of a monstrous breakfast on the rolling table near the bed. Alyx was sitting in the corner, reading, and gave him a quick nod when he looked over at her.

He'd been hoping the two of them would work something out while she was here, hoped that maybe he'd find her curled up next to him, or perhaps sitting next to the bed holding his hand, something other than what he found. There might be only a dozen feet separating them, but to him it looked to be a gulf greater than the Grand Canyon itself. He knew there was very little he could do to resolve this. They had to do it themselves, no matter how difficult it was for him to sit back and do nothing.

Walking around the bed, he got a good look at Darien. He was staring off into the distance and playing idly with the ring, sliding it back and forth on the chain with an odd twist in the middle. It had come as a major shock to learn that Fawkes had taken the ring back; he'd been so elated when she'd finally agreed to wear it, even if she still refused to get married. Bobby had backed her into a corner one day and demanded an explanation of that from her. She'd told him why, simply and concisely, and he'd found himself unable to argue with her. He did try, though. Even pointing out the fact that Fawkes wasn't likely to go elsewhere didn't sway her, so he let the matter drop.

If Alyx felt she didn't need a piece of paper to show how she felt, and Fawkes was reasonably happy with the arrangement, then who was he to try and change her mind? Hell, from her perspective it would be her third marriage, and considering how damaging her first had been to her, and her second having been arranged by the government -- a job -- it might very well have made her unwilling to risk it again.

The having-kids issue... well there had been a time when Bobby would have been the happiest man alive to have kids -- with Vivian -- but now he was just as glad it hadn't happened. He had to agree with Alyx on one thing; Darien would make a great father. So he could understand, though not necessarily agree, but understand why she felt the need to leave him uncommitted, to give him the appearance of being able to go elsewhere if he so chose.

Bobby had become convinced it would take an act of God himself to separate the two of them. Instead, it was this situation and Fawkes' stubborn nobility. It was amazing how someone so intelligent could be so stupid.

"Hey, partner. Feeling better today?"

Darien refocused his eyes, to see Bobby almost bouncing in place with barely suppressed energy. A few hours of sleep had obviously made a difference. "I'm alive. Well, half of me anyway."

"Fawkes, a little optimism wouldn't hurt ya. Keepy said it might take a few days." Bobby hated hearing the tone of utter defeat in his partner's voice.

"Realism, Hobbes. Realism." Darien felt the sudden need to move, to get the hell out of there, and instead closed his eyes and tried to relax.

Bobby looked over at Alyx, who shook her head slightly. She had no more idea what was going on in Fawkes' head than Bobby did. "Well, Fawkes, I'm afraid I have to steal the kid away. We have work to do."

"Big surprise." Darien didn't even bother to open his eyes. "I'm amazed it didn't happen sooner." Already they were moving on with their lives, leaving him alone.

"Claire will be here in an hour. You're safe, Fawkes." Bobby set his hand on Darien's shoulder. The gesture was meant to reassure the man lying on the bed, but instead Darien stiffened and tried to draw away. Bobby removed his hand, giving up for now. He turned to look at Alyx, who had closed the book and gotten to her feet.

"Let me grab my stuff and I'll be ready to go." When Hobbes nodded, she walked out the door without even glancing over at Fawkes. Bobby wondered just what the hell had happened.

"All right, what the hell did you do this time?" Bobby had trouble keeping the anger out of his voice. Yeah, he felt bad for Fawkes, would do anything he could to help him, but this...this bullshit he was pulling was really starting to piss him off.

"Me, Bobby? What could I have possibly done?" Darien's eyes flew open and he made a slight gesture to remind his 'friend' of his current state of near-immobility. "Keep her away from me," he hissed.

Bobby just stood there, too angry, too stunned, too confused to even put two thoughts together, much less come up with an appropriate and non-pejorative-laden comment. For an instant he was tempted to tell Fawkes where to go and to describe, in detail, the hand basket that would take him there. But he didn't. Instead, he released a ragged sigh. "When you run into my partner, tell him I said 'Hi'." With that, Bobby turned away from the stranger lying on the bed before him and left the room to find Alyx. He hated that he was starting to think it might have been better if the bullet had hit Fawkes in the head instead of his back.

"Shit," he muttered as he walked into the lab.

"Tell me about it." Alyx was holding a cloth bag and running a shaky hand through her now-loose hair. "I need to stop at home before we head into the office."

"Uh, sure kid. Why?" Bobby still had Fawkes on his mind and wasn't giving her quite the amount of attention he probably should.

"I think I'd rather go to work wearing my own clothes." He heard the touch of humor in her voice and realized she was still wearing the scrubs from yesterday afternoon.

"Sorry. Let's get you home. The Official can wait." Bobby escorted her to the van, and they were silent for the entire drive to her place. He kept glancing over at her as she leaned against the passenger window and stared off at nothing. Somehow, he knew better than to even try to start a conversation with her or even ask simply 'how ya doing?' He could tell she was holding it together by will alone. It was looking like things had gone from bad to worse in the hours she'd been sitting with Fawkes.

He keyed the code in for her parking garage security gate and pulled into the spot next to her car. "Do you want to just drive in on your own?"

"Actually, if you don't mind, I'd rather not drive." She sounded exceptionally worn out, and Bobby wondered if she had gotten any rest at all.

"Sure, kid." He slid out of the van and followed her up to her place.

Standing in front of the door, he could hear her grumbling to herself and realized she'd forgotten her keys when they'd left yesterday. Not that it was that big a deal -- he watched her set her hand on the door, and seconds later he could hear the locks disengaging. She slid the door open.

"Have a seat. I'll be just a few minutes." She wandered off to her oversized bathroom, which also contained her walk-in closet, and shut the door behind her.

Bobby entered her kitchen and peeked in her fridge; as usual, it was not only well-stocked with stuff that she and Fawkes liked, but also with some of the goodies and drinks he favored. Grabbing one of the bottles of iced coffee that she kept around for him, he twisted it open as he moved over to the windows. Her view was halfway decent if you ignored the roof of the ugly building across the street and focused on the water with the occasional sailboat that drifted by. He wasn't sure how long he stood there waiting before he realized something was wrong.

He knocked on the door to the bathroom and, when there was no response, opened it up and stuck his head in. He found Alyx huddled on the floor by her closet door. "Aw, crap. Kid, don't do this." He moved over and crouched down beside her.

She lifted her head and looked so pitiful it nearly broke his heart. "Sorry, Bobby. Just give me a minute, would you. Please?"

He had a thought then. "When did you last sleep?"

"Aside from drug-induced unconsciousness? Ummm..." When he realized she had to actually think about it, he knew it had been too long.

"Damn it, kid, even you have to sleep sometime." He pulled out his cell phone, intending to call the Official and let him know Alyx was not going to be in for a few hours, but her hand on his arm stopped him.

"I'll sleep later. Promise. I...I don't really want to right now anyway." She had pulled herself back together, her momentary joining of the rest of humanity almost gone. "I just didn't think it would hurt this much."

"Neither did I." He knew what she was going through. Losing Viv had been one of the most painful experiences of his life, and it had taken him a long time to get over it...over her. Now she was remarried and, surprisingly, that part hadn't hurt as much as he thought it would. "You sure? I can manage without you for a few hours."

Her back still against the wall she slid up until she was standing. "I'm sure. Just let me grab my sneakers."

Bobby got to his feet, shaking his head. Damn, the kid did a good job imitating being as tough as old shoe leather. After all this time, he knew it was a cover, much like the Keeper's sometimes cold and indifferent attitude. Last night he'd spent several hours holding one very teary-eyed and upset Keeper in his arms until she'd finally fallen asleep in exhaustion. She'd been awake for almost twenty-four hours at that point and, even though everything had gone well, she was out of energy and needed the cathartic release that tears could bring. When he'd left her place in the wee hours of the morning, she'd been sleeping calmly, with a look of peace on her countenance that hadn't been there since Fawkes had been hurt.

About twenty minutes later they were walking into the Official's office. Alyx had a huge cup of coffee that Bobby had bought for her, insisting that she needed it. In truth she hadn't argued all that hard and drank half of it before they had even arrived. Not that it seemed to help all that much, but she wasn't swaying as she walked anymore. She slid into her usual spot on the end of the long conference table, much to the dismay of the steel-gray-haired woman standing next to the Official.

"Miss Silver, could you possibly use a chair like the rest of humanity?" Ms. Pritchard said with an air of condescension.

Much to Bobby's surprise, all Alyx did was lift one eyebrow and look at the woman over the cup as she took another sip of her drink.

"Ms. Prickly..." The Official stopped, realizing what he had called the woman. Obviously he'd listened to Fawkes and Hobbes call her that behind her back once too often. "Ms. Pritchard, get used to it. When you can do what Miss Silver does, then you can complain about where she chooses to sit."

The woman huffed and glared, but wisely made no commentary.

"Chief, I haven't filled in the kid yet." Hobbes sat down in one of the chairs before the desk and realized he missed not having Fawkes sitting next to him.

"So what does she know?" Ms. Pritchard asked her tone still condescending.

"Do you want alphabetical order, or in the order by which I learned it?" Alyx had this glint in her eye, which boded ill for the woman if she didn't ease up a bit.

"Ahh, that won't be necessary," the Official hurriedly said. He turned to Ms. Pritchard. "Just fill her in on the current situation."

"Yes, sir." If her voice were any colder, they could use her to distract thermals from Fawkes and the kid. Bobby was liking the woman less and less with every encounter. That made Bobby think for a moment of some creative ways of getting rid of her accidental-like. Damn, he hadn't disliked Eberts that much.

"Miss Silver, as you know, the bullet removed from Mr. Fawkes does not match those fired from Agent Hobbes' gun. In fact, it is of no known make, either public or governmental. We believe it to be homemade; part of the shooters signature, if you will." She paused, watching Alyx, who seemed to not be paying attention. Hobbes, who had turned slightly to look at her, knew she was simply focusing, processing the information she was being given.

"Keep going," Alyx said quietly. "Did you analyze the material?"

Ms. Pritchard seemed surprised. "Yes, we did. It is a unique formula, one which alters the damage done to the bullet upon impact."

"Which is why it was nearly undamaged." Alyx nodded. "Who has access to the materials?"

"Kid, anyone can make their own bullets," Bobby said to her.

"Actually, Hobbes, one of the ingredients is unavailable to the general public, and is difficult to gain access to even for most government agencies," the Official commented, much to Hobbes' surprise.

"So the shooter either works for or worked for the government, and for an agency with access to the material." Bobby frowned, not liking what this could mean. "So we were set up from the start? By who?"

"That's what you need to find out, Hobbes." The Official did not look the least bit happy about this.

"I'll need a copy of the analysis and a list of those agencies that have access," Alyx was saying as she slid off the table. "E-mail it to my home address."

"Miss Silver, I'm not sure..." Ms. Pritchard began, but the Official interrupted her.

"Get her whatever she needs." The woman frowned, but nodded stiffly. "Where will you start looking?"

"Where it went down, Chief. Start at the scene of the crime." Hobbes got to his feet and turned towards the door.

***

"You know, I've driven past this thing dozens of times and I've never done more than glance at it. Why the hell were you guys here?" They were standing just in front of the Maritime Museum, trying to blend in with the locals and tourists, and failing miserably. Maybe it was the dark glasses and far too serious looks for such a beautiful day. Maybe it was the obvious weaponry worn in full view. Whichever, everyone was giving them as wide a berth as possible on the overcrowded sidewalk.

"Not here, the cruise ship dock. The warehouse, to be exact." He led the way down the street to the dock in question. "The boss got handed his orders from F&G. Supposedly there was going to be a sale of sea turtle eggs or some such crap. Fawkes was supposed to go see-through, watch the exchange, and then break it up."

"But the cruise ships only stop for day trips here; why use this for the meet, especially after the boat had left?" The schedule for cruise ships coming in was pretty regular and known by all the locals. It was best to avoid the area when the boat was in. Tourists were annoying, but cruise ship tourists were the worst. Not that either of them had a lot of time to hang out around here.

"Kid, you're as bad as Fawkes. His 'spidey-sense' went off almost immediately, but we had orders." Alyx nodded. She might be able to tell the Official 'no' on occasion, but he rarely put up with it from Bobby and Darien. Hobbes walked her through the events of that morning, at least from his perspective, and she paid close attention.

"So there were no shots until out here?" Bobby nodded. "And they tried to capture Darien, or seemed to anyway."

"Yeah, they got a hold of him and tried to restrain him. He tried to break away from one guy by quicksilvering, using the cold to his advantage I guess, and ended up fighting with a guy shooting at me. Wish I had realized it at the time. Would have done things differently." Even knowing he hadn't shot Fawkes didn't ease the discomfort of the memory. He'd still screwed up by not realizing Fawkes was wrestling with the guy.

"Where were you, Bobby?" Alyx was staring off into the distance, working on something.

"Uh, over by the gangplank. Not much cover out here." Ignoring the people hovering around, he moved over to the position he'd held that morning.

"And Fawkes?"

"Over there." He pointed and Alyx moved until she had the spot. He had to wonder what she was doing.

"Here?" Bobby nodded and walked over to her.

"What kid?" He knew she was onto something and he could just about see it for himself.

She was muttering to herself. "Slight downward angle, entered his back at a twenty degree angle off of perpendicular. Adjust for height differential."

Bobby spun about after listening to her. "Hell kid, the shot came from across the street at least. Maybe from even over on the PCH."

"We have a window to work with. He couldn't have been too close, though, or that bullet wouldn't have stopped." She had refocused on the world now that Bobby had caught on. "Why not kill him, though? When it was obvious capture wouldn't work, why just shoot to injure?"

"For the gland?" Bobby suggested. It wouldn't be the first time after all and they all knew it was safer to harvest from a living host as opposed to a dead one.

"Maybe. Maybe Fawkes wasn't the specific target, just a bonus." Alyx had started moving and was preparing to cross the street with Bobby following. They wanted to check the shooting angles from the other direction.

"What do you mean?" They were walking along the sidewalk to the next corner so that they could get across the Pacific Coast Highway and find the area where the shooter had most likely been.

"I'm not entirely sure, but I know there would be a major war behind the scenes if Fawkes were taken out of the game permanently. You would not believe the backroom fighting that goes on to use my services. Because I'm available, the 'Fish can justify not letting Fawkes get borrowed anymore. He was forced into a major compromise with me." She paused and Bobby watched the emotions flash across her face. "If I were the only one left, the Official would probably not be able to hold onto me. I'd be reassigned and he would not be able to stop it."

"So Fawkes being taken out of the game would make you a free agent. Who wants you that bad?" They had crossed the street and were walking side by side to the area they wanted. They turned around to look back at the ship. "Crappy angle, but a good shooter could do it. The height angle isn't quite right though."

"If he were in an SUV it would be. Or in the parking lot. Everything slopes up from here." Alyx pointed out and he nodded in agreement. "Bobby, Ebes..." Her voice caught and she had to take a moment before continuing. "Eberts once showed me one week's worth of requests for me. There were one hundred and fifty-three of them. He said it was a slow week. The record topped five hundred."

Bobby was only a little surprised by the number. Her range of abilities made her useful for any number of tasks, from espionage to assassination. What she would do was not the same as what she could do, though. So he knew many requests got denied. "Kid, could there be someone who's been turned down a lot who'd get pissed off enough to try something like this?"

Alyx shrugged. "I have very little say in where I'm sent. Occasionally the Official will talk to me about a mission if he's unsure about my...my cooperation, but usually I get a minimal briefing and leave." Bobby gave her an odd look; that she got even a slight say in the matter made him wonder what she'd been doing on some of her trips. "I might be able to break into the files if you think it's worth checking out."

"I think it is, kid. Cover all the angles, ya know." He ran a hand over the top of his head, thinking. "Now, how do we find an SUV that we don't have a description of and may not have even been here?"

"Video, how else?" Alyx said with a grin. "Half these places must have some sort of security cameras. Especially the admin buildings just down the street. Hell, if he drove past an ATM we might get a pic."

Bobby smiled; it was a good idea, but would take a lot of work. He needed to call the Official and arrange for some more agents to come out and help. It would take days for him and the kid to collect them all on their own. "All right. We have a place to start. I'll drop you at home." When she tried to protest, he silenced her. "You need to sleep, and I need you able to work. I'll get started on the video angle." He checked his watch. "I'll be at your place at six. I'll bring the food, and we'll hunt through those files and see what we can come up with."

For a moment, it looked like she was going to argue, but instead she nodded. "Yeah, that might be a good idea. 'Ms. Prickly' should have downloaded the data by then as well." She chuckled then. "I can't believe the 'Fish called her that."

"Kid, that woman could out-freeze a glacier." He gave her a nudge to get her moving back to where they had parked the van.

"I... Will you stop by and check on..." She stopped and swallowed hard.

"We both will," Bobby said in a soft voice. Fawkes was being an idiot. Thinking that shoving them away and being downright nasty to them would erase their feelings. Make them abandon him all that much faster. Instead, all it did was hurt them as well. "He'll come to his senses, you'll see."

"I hope so Bobby." She kept a tight rein on her emotions, but Bobby could tell she was still upset. He knew her too well by now.

"Kid, he has to. He can't go that much lower; I'd be forced to hurt him." Bobby tried to keep it light and was rewarded with a weak smile from her. "Stick with me, kid. Bobby Hobbes knows these things."

"Oh yes, master of all things." Alyx poured all the sarcasm she could into her voice and Bobby grinned.

"Smartass."


	4. Chapter 4

Part IV

Darien had drifted off into sleep after Alyx and Bobby left. He wasn't sure what the hell was going on is his head, but he couldn't seem to help himself. For the first time since they had met, really, Alyx was ignoring him completely. As close as they had become, he could sense that she was angry and upset and mad as hell at him, but he saw no recourse. There was no way he could allow her to become his...his baby-sitter, his caregiver, his...he forced the thoughts away. It wouldn't happen, he would not let it.

He had come back to consciousness, knowing he'd been dreaming, with the remains of a sharp, shooting pain through his legs just fading. He whimpered, wanting to curl in on himself to ease what felt like the worse muscle spasm in the world. For a second he felt hope that this meant things were actually returning to normal, but when the pain completely passed he found his legs just as unresponsive as before.

A small part of his mind tried to remind him that this might not be permanent, that a month from now he might be laughing at his current foolishness and that, if he kept this up, he'd be doing that laughing without Alyx.

He ignored the voice, certain that the worst would happen, that there was no point in hoping, or even trying. His back had stiffened up while he'd been lying on his side, but he was afraid to even try and move. He could have pressed the call button that lay within easy reach, but instead he chose to simply lie there and suffer. To wallow in the despair he had sunk into, to debate the worth of trying to survive the next few hours, never mind days.

He wanted to know why he was going through this. What the point of all this suffering was. It hadn't been that long ago that Claire had told him the solution had been found, that she could remove the damn gland without killing him. He could be free of the Agency, free from his addiction to counteragent, able to walk away from this life and into whatever one he chose to find for himself. And he'd found he couldn't do it. He'd just told her he'd have to think about it, and all because of a stupid dream -- a quicksilver dream -- that started weeks before the incident with Rachel and Jase. It had come more and more often as the weeks passed, becoming increasingly insistent until he could not help but remember every detail. It didn't go away until he finally told Claire 'no.'

That decision had surprised even him, but after nearly losing Alyx, he found he couldn't walk away from her. He didn't want to live a life without her, didn't want to go back to being alone.

Then this happened.

What the hell was the point of it all?

He was still staring off at the wall, thinking about the ultimate uselessness of his gesture, when the voice of the Keeper intruded.

"Well, Darien, how are you feeling today?" She came into his line of sight, wearing a standard Keeper outfit and smiling at him. It irritated him to no end that she seemed so relaxed and happy while he was so miserable.

"Go away." His voice was flat, lifeless. He couldn't even drum up enough energy to yell at her.

"I bet you say that to all the girls." She made a hand motion and an orderly appeared -- Carlton, he vaguely remembered-- pushing a standard-issue wheelchair. Darien closed his eyes, not wanting to look at the hated thing, but snapped them open at Claire's next words.

"Up and at 'em. You have things to do. Places to be."

Darien didn't move. "Right, like I'm just gonna climb right on out of bed and into that...that rolling tomb."

Claire's smile faded. "Yes, you are. By some miracle, the damage to your spine was minimal and you should fully recover with a little work."

Darien was so intent on his attitude of disbelief and denial that he didn't even pause to comprehend her words, dismissing them automatically without even really hearing them. "Just go away and leave me alone." He sounded almost plaintive now.

"Carlton," Claire said, stepping back.

The next thing Darien knew, he was being lifted bodily by the rather hulking form of orderly Carlton and placed in the wheelchair, his protests and struggles going completely unheeded. His back complained loudly, but no worse than on other occasions when he'd strained the muscles. He glared at Claire while his legs were positioned carefully and he was strapped into place.

"Good," she said. "Now, do you think you can move yourself, or should I have Carlton do it for you?" She had kept her tone neutral, but he could see the anger flashing in those eyes of hers.

"Oh, you mean I get to choose?" he sneered, making it plain he had no intention of helping in any way, shape, or form.

"Darien, you always have choices, you just may not like them very much." Claire actually sounded sympathetic, but it didn't last for long. "In this case, you've chosen to behave like a petulant five-year-old."

Carlton took up position behind the chair and started them moving. Darien sank into himself, doing his best to ignore everything that was going on about him. Even so, he couldn't help noticing the Agency suits that followed along, eyeing everyone with suspicion.

"What's with the security goons?" Darien tried to make it sound like he didn't really care, but wasn't sure if he succeeded. When it became obvious Claire was debating exactly how much to tell him, he added, "It's my ass, what's left of it anyway, so don't give me the need-to-know crap."

Claire gave him a long, slow look and then nodded slightly. She opened the door to a room filled with annoying monitors and other equipment. He was rolled over to the bed in the middle of the room. He noticed the goons had remained outside to play guard dog.

"We now believe you were intentionally hurt so that you would end up here," Claire said, moving to ready the equipment she wanted to use.

"What? Arnaud again?" Darien was being uncomfortably manhandled onto the bed by Carlton.

"No, not Arnaud. We're not sure who yet. Bobby and Alyx are working on it as we speak." She rolled a monitor over towards the bed and directed Carlton to help Darien to lie on his stomach. Then she began attaching electrodes along his back. When she was leaning over near his head, she whispered, "You were set up, and the Official suspects it came down through F&G." Standing up, she returned to her Keeper voice. "This shouldn't take very long."

"Claire...what aren't you telling me?" Darien hated being vulnerable, and right now he couldn't run. Hell, he couldn't even crawl away if he had to.

"You'll know more when the rest of us do. Right now you need to flex you're left foot for me." She was looking at the monitor.

Darien gave a harsh bark of laughter. "And how the hell am I supposed to do that?" The momentary distraction caused by the news that he'd been set up for this was gone, replaced once more by the cloud of gloom his situation had left him in.

"The same way you always do." Claire turned to him. "Move your left hand, then your left foot." She watched as he balled his left hand into a fist, flipped her the bird, and then 'moved' his left foot. She looked at the monitor. "Perfect. Now you're left knee, bend it please."

With a look of exasperation never leaving his face, Darien spent the next hour 'moving' whatever she told him to. By the end he was tired and his back had started to ache again. Claire was just about to remove the electrodes on his back when he grunted in pain. "Ah, crap, that hurts," he groaned as that shock of pain shot down both legs again. It wasn't like the spasms that had shot up his back when the bullet was still stuck in there. This was like that annoying tingling feeling you got when a foot that had fallen asleep began to finally wake up, only magnified a thousand times.

"Easy," Claire said, trying to keep him calm. "It'll pass in a moment." She was watching the monitor, and Darien tried to focus on it as the pain finally began to ease. The flowing waves and numbers on the screen meant nothing to him, giving him no clue as to what was going on.

"What the hell is that, besides damn uncomfortable?" He sounded just as unthrilled as he felt about the experience. Claire, however, was apparently not in the mood to answer and ignored his question in favor of disconnecting him from the machines. "C'mon, Keepy, talk to me," he pleaded.

Instead, she spoke to Carlton. "If you would, tell Sergeant Thomas that we're ready for him."

"Of course, Miss Keeply." Darien heard the door open and then swing shut, and wondered just what was going to happen next. It was few minutes before he heard the door open and then a new voice, deeper and definitely military. At this point he just wanted to go back to his room and sleep, or try to anyway. His back was one huge ache that the smallest movement hurt. He ignored the quiet discussion going on around him as he closed his eyes and tried to relax.

When he felt hands on his back, unfamiliar hands, his first instinct was to flinch away, but instead he nearly cried in relief as a pair of expert hands began to massage the cramps out of his lower back. He let out a long sigh and tried to keep from moaning in relief.

Claire must have seen the look on his face. "You could have mentioned you were in pain. There is no reason for you to suffer needlessly."

"Claire, it might have hurt, but it was something I could feel." Darien said as he opened his eyes to look at her.

Claire shook her head. "Darien, it'll get better. Trust me."

Those two words were a mistake, and she knew it immediately. His look darkened and he turned away from her. He ignored her for the rest of the massage, and said not another word to her even after he was back in his room. Once she was gone, doing whatever Keepers do when their Kept is broken, he took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. He so wanted to believe her, that things would get better, that he could trust her. He wanted to trust her, but old distrusts and hurts conspired with the new and kept him from believing a word she said. He wished things were different; he missed being able to trust her, missed being able to trade jokes when he was down in the Keep getting his shot, missed just being able to smile at her.

He knew she was still mad at Alyx, though he was not entirely sure why. Thinking about Alyx was the wrong thing to do. With a little effort, he managed to get up on his side and, using his arms, moved his legs into a seemingly comfortable position. Pulling down one of the pillows, he hugged it to his chest and shut his eyes. He'd done the right thing, he repeated over and over to himself. Now, if he could just find it in his heart to believe that he could live without her. That an existence, without being able to walk and without her, was one he wanted.

He failed.

***

Bobby pressed the buzzer a second time and waited a couple more minutes before the door finally opened. He had to resist the temptation to laugh at her. She was wearing a T-shirt that was way too big for her -- he realized it was one of Fawkes' -- and a pair of beat-up jeans, looking like she had just woken up and wasn't all that thrilled by the fact. He couldn't help but notice she was barefoot, given the iridescent orange nail polish she had on her toes. All in all, she looked nothing like the Alyx he was used to seeing on an average day, and in a weird way he kind of liked it. It wasn't often she was this relaxed and unreserved around him.

"Sorry, Bobby. I overslept." She slid the door open fully and waved for him to come in while rubbing one hand over her eyes. "Guess I was a bit tired." She pushed the door shut as he walked past her and put the box of take-out food on her table.

She shuffled over and took a deep breath. "Bobby, you are a god. Lamb curry. I think I can die happy now."

Bobby chuckled. "You're learning." He began unloading the Styrofoam containers while she got both dishes and drinks for them. Then she wandered over to her big computer and gave it the voice command to power up. "I talked to Claire," he said quietly. "She says everything is going just fine."

Alyx came back over to the table and began loading up a plate with rice and lamb curry. "Thanks, Bobby."

He grabbed a plate of food himself and then dragged a chair over to her computer to sit next to her. "Did the ice queen send you the info?"

She nodded and opened the file. He read it over her shoulder, though he didn't understand much of it. The chemical breakdown was very detailed, couched in geek-ese that only a few could speak, though it was looking like the kid was one of them. "Nice try," she mumbled around a mouthful of food. She scrolled down some more, either reading or skimming through the info, he couldn't be sure, when she stopped. "Damn, I've read about this stuff before." She opened another window and, after a quick search, a report appeared on the screen. A classified DOD document.

"Kid, would you care to fill me in?"

Alyx turned to him with a grin. "A few months ago, I was cruising the DOD mainframe and downloaded this report. Seems some scientist geek created this weird chemical that, when added to some metals, created a near-frictionless effect. Called it Dubrimium. Stupid name."

"Huh?" Bobby was feeling a bit lost.

Alyx grinned. "For some odd reason, the addition of this stuff alters the friction that effects, say, airplane wings or submarine hulls, allowing them to move faster with lower energy requirements. So the DOD started doing some testing, thinking it might be useful in fighter jets. They thought they might actually be able to build a hypersonic fighter that could go extra-atmospheric."

"I'm guessing all did not go as planned." Bobby scooped up some more rice and looked at her over the plate.

She nodded. "Once the air temp drops below fifty degrees, it adversely effects the metal, causing friction to affect it more rather than less. So planes would consume more fuel, subs slow, cars become gas hogs, bullets fall short...." She stopped. "Damn, he is the luckiest son of a bitch alive."

"Kid?" Bobby wasn't too sure what set her off, but at least she was smiling.

"Bobby, the colder the temp, the more adversely it affects an item with this Dubrimium." Alyx turned to him.

"And Fawkes was quicksilvered. The sucker must have almost stopped dead when it got near him." Alyx was nodding in agreement. "But that means they wanted him out of commission permanently, and the gland intact."

"Yeah, I know. We need to get the security tapes for that dock. I have the feeling they had a boat nearby, to whisk him away if they had the chance." Alyx looked over the information from the DOD for another minute before closing the window. "We also need to review the security at Leavitt. If they were expecting him to come in hurt and go straight to the OR for surgery, they might have had someone in place to harvest."

"Jeez, kid, slow down. We'll cover it all." He gestured with his fork. "How about that list of requests?"

"Give me five to set up the search parameters and access the Agency mainframe. Then it'll take care of it itself." She began typing, and Bobby moved back over to the table to get seconds and another drink. "I'll even have it compare against the list of those who have access to the Dubrimium."

She joined him at the table a few minutes later. "We're looking at a six hour run time at least."

"No problem. It's gonna take at least a day to track down all those videos, and then we still have to review them. It'll take a while." He looked over at her. "It's not too late to head out to Leavitt," he suggested quietly.

Alyx nodded. "After I finish grazing. I haven't eaten in a couple of days." She raised her glass in salute. "Thanks, Bobby."

Bobby returned the salute and looked at her carefully. She did look better now than she had earlier. This wasn't the first time he'd seen her staggering about on little sleep and less food. He knew when she got loaned out they worked her as hard as they dared, and she tended to put all the effort she could into an outside job. Mainly to get it over with. He knew she would much rather be here working for the Fat Man than off doing something for another agency. "Any time, kid."

Claire met them in the lab at Fort Leavitt to exchange information. Claire's news was good, for the most part, and Bobby and Alyx didn't really have anything new to add from their end. The work needed was being done; they would just have to be patient and do whatever it took to protect Fawkes until the culprit was found. Bobby arranged to get access to the hospital's security logs on the day in question. Since Arnaud's circumvention of the security, the protocols had been changed to prevent another incident of that type. So if there had been a breach, a different method must have been used. Once the information was collected, one of the Agency suits left to deliver it to the Official. It would join the dozens of other video and security tapes that were being collected from all over the area where Fawkes had been shot.

"So he's gonna be okay?" Bobby asked again.

"Eventually. According to the tests, he should regain full mobility. It'll just take some time and work." Claire sighed and looked over at Alyx who was reviewing the results from today's tests. "He still isn't dealing well emotionally."

"Send him home," Alyx said quietly. "Let him deal with it himself."

Claire rounded on Alyx, her look sharp. "Just like that, turn him loose. Are you really that cold?"

Alyx sighed. "You know I'm not, but he has to get past thinking he's helpless, and he won't do that here or in the Keep. His place is small. Get him what he needs, a few bits of advice, and send him home."

Bobby watched this exchange with a bit of trepidation. While Alyx was seemingly calm, it looked like Claire was about to explode. "Is he...you know...stable?" he asked.

"Technically yes, but..." Claire shook her head, not liking this. "What about security?"

"A couple of agents outside his place should do it." Alyx said as she set the report back down. "It's not like he'll be alone."

"How do you figure that?" Claire practically shouted.

"Keep, I think the kid means she'll be there." Bobby was watching Alyx. She could be pretty darn sneaky when she wanted to be, and he had to agree that Fawkes needed to be drawn -- or shocked -- out of this funk he'd fallen into, and soon.

"But he doesn't want to see you.... oh." Claire caught on then. "Are you sure you want to do this? It won't be an enjoyable experience. He may have to bottom out completely before things improve."

"Claire, is he likely to get better being waited on hand and foot here? He knows if he pouts and does nothing, it will eventually be done for him. Send him home, let him stew, let him wallow in self-pity. When he finally gets hungry enough, or angry enough, or upset enough, he'll do what's necessary." Alyx didn't sound all that happy about her idea, but it made sense in a way. Put him back into his 'normal' routine and force him to face the situation head-on. Sometimes it was the only method that would work.

"Claire, I think she's right. I can do without her for a day or two. We're still gathering the intel we need." Bobby looked uncomfortable. He wasn't a doctor, but he did know something about depression; he knew Fawkes was falling, and hard. They couldn't save him; he had to do it himself.

"But he still has some medical needs. Changing his bandages..." Claire trailed off, thinking. "All right. I'll make sure he's comfortable, and then stop back in the evening unless you call."

Alyx nodded in agreement. "Agreed. Claire, I wouldn't suggest this if I thought there was another way. It might be weeks before he fully recovers; he has to learn to manage. He needs to realize we don't care any less, don't think of him as less than he is, just because he can't walk."

"I know, but I was hoping he'd come out of it on his own." She raised a hand to forestall any commentary. "He's not, and he refuses to believe a thing I say. But if he doesn't improve in three days, or if there is a problem, I'm moving him to Lab Three. He needs to start therapy."

"Impulse stimulation?" Alyx asked and Claire nodded.

Bobby smiled and just listened as they went into an involved discussion of various techniques that had been helpful in aiding recovery, including some experimental ones that had been successful in cases similar to Fawkes'. He was simply relieved to see them working together and, for the moment that the wall standing between the two of them had fallen. This was the team that had come up with the inhibitor for Fawkes, that was constantly pushing the envelope down in the Keep, that could confuse both himself and Fawkes in three words or less. He hoped this would last, and that the Keeper would see that Alyx was no longer fighting against her.

"I'm gonna go visit Fawkes for a while. You two just keep talking about...whatever it is you're talking about." Claire smiled at him and Alyx chuckled, but by the time he was at the door of the room they were back at it.

"Oh, Bobby, don't mention his going home," Claire said softly.

"Sure. I've plenty of other news for him." He slipped out into the hallway and made his way to Fawkes' room. Two Agency suits stood on either side of the door, and they actually made him flash his badge before letting him in. Annoying, but the correct thing to do in these circumstances.

The room had been rearranged so that the bed was no longer directly in line with the door like it had been. The room never had any windows, so there was no concern about a sniper going after Fawkes that way. They'd added a camera as a precaution -- not to watch Fawkes, per se, but to make sure no one unauthorized got in. Darien was lying on his side, facing away from the door again, with a meal sitting neglected and ignored on the rolling table. At least he was drinking anyway. There were several empty cans of soda and a couple bottles of water that were floating around. At a guess, he'd been chasing away the orderlies as well as his friends this afternoon.

"Well, Fawkes. Still in a mood, are you?" He came around the bed and sank into the chair, which had also been moved, and looked at his friend.

It took Darien a moment to focus on the person sitting in the chair, since the lighting was still dim. When he realized it was indeed Bobby, he wanted to both reach out for help and ignore him completely. His mouth preempted whatever decision he might have made. "Go away, Hobbes. I'm no longer your partner, and I have no interest in 'friends' who visit out of pity."

"Pity, huh? You really think that's the only reason I'm here?" Hobbes shifted to rest one elbow on the arm of the chair and set is his chin on his palm. "I'm guessing my partner is still off somewhere else, so I'll just talk to you instead." He didn't bother getting angry. There was no point, and the pitiful heap that used to be Darien Fawkes wouldn't be impressed. "We were set up, buddy. Someone wanted you out of the game, and maybe that gland you still carry around."

"Tell me something I don't know. The fat bastard was here earlier to 'reassure me of his continuing support' and that you were working on finding who did this." Darien levered himself up slightly. "When you find the shooter, tell him to aim for the head next time. It would solve lots of problems." He lowered himself back down and glared at Bobby through half-closed eyes.

"I'll pass that along," Bobby said at a soft growl. "Did the boss also tell you that the kid might be the real target? That the quicksilver may very well have saved you're sorry ass from a gland-harvesting party? That you could still be a target?" When Darien's eyes flew open, he knew he'd hit a nerve, though he had no way of knowing which comment had gotten through. He suspected it was the one about Alyx, though. "Yeah, Fawkes, the whole damn meet was to get you out of the way and in here. We're working on finding out who did this...We'll get them, don't worry about it." His tone turned serious. "You need to work on getting better."

Darien snorted. "Right. Even I know this isn't something that 'gets better'." He looked away, not willing to meet Bobby's eyes any longer.

"Darien, you may not believe me -- hell, you may not even trust me right now -- but I'm telling you; you will get better." Bobby got to his feet. "I know you want to be alone, to mope and think about nothing but how awful your life is, so I'll go." Bobby began to walk away, but stopped at the foot of the bed. "I still believe in you, Fawkes, and I don't bail on my friends. You seem to have forgotten that."

Darien didn't move, and when he heard the door shut just seconds later he wasn't sure how he felt. So they'd been set up -- he'd figured that out before he'd walked into that warehouse and found himself in the middle of a trap. The fact that they had tried to capture him most likely meant they were after the gland. Shooting him must have been the back-up plan. These guys worked like Arnaud, apparently. Injure him badly enough that the Keep wouldn't do, but not badly enough to kill him instantly. Since he couldn't go to a regular hospital, that left very few choices and, of them, Leavitt was the closest. Have some guy in the ER and -- voila! -- he'd be dead and glandless.

Something had gone wrong, obviously, since he was still alive and still had the gland. He held up his hand, letting the quicksilver flow across it until it vanished from sight. He held it for a minute and then stopped the flow and watched as it flaked away. The gland even still worked, though the irony of a wheelchair-bound invisible man was almost enough to bring a smile to his face. Invisible ironside? Yeah, he could hold out for the Fat Man's job and run the Agency from his chair. Or wait, he could go back to his old ways. No one would suspect a paraplegic of robbing a museum, or a jewelry store, especially when he could quicksilver the goods.

His mood sobered. Like they would allow him to keep the gland. Any day now he expected the requests and then the demands to begin. Eventually they would just drug him and yank it out. Shove it into the head of some other schmuck and watch him suffer as Darien had. Maybe the new guy would even win the fair maiden, the prize, and have Alyx gracing his bed much as she used to Darien's.

Shifting, he rolled onto his back, supported partially by a cushion to keep pressure off the bullet wound, and stared at the ceiling. He'd had so many plans, so many dreams, even with working at the Agency, and now they were so much dust to be blown away by the slightest breeze. There had been a time, only a few days ago, when he'd wondered what tomorrow would bring and actually looked forward to a new day. No longer. Now he hoped that tomorrow would never arrive.

Bobby found Alyx in an overstuffed chair that she must have appropriated from one of the doctors' lounges, sitting just outside the door to Fawkes' room. With a sigh he leaned against the wall next to her. "I'd tell you to go in there, but he ain't the Fawkes we knew. I hope this works, 'cause I'm really starting to miss my smartassed partner."

"I'm just going to hang out here for a while. I'll run home later and see what the search has found. Download the info to mainframe or your personal inbox?" She had a resigned look on her face. He knew she wanted to be in there, in that room with Fawkes, her friend and partner, but she'd abide by his wishes. To the letter, anyway.

"My inbox. And get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be a long day for you." He set a hand on her shoulder and she patted it absentmindedly.

"You sure you won't need me tomorrow?"

"I'm sure. A long boring day tracking down videos?" he chuckled. "I think I can manage. You take care of him."

"For as long as he lets me, Bobby." She turned to look up at him. "Now go take Claire out for some coffee or something. She needs to sleep. If he needs her, she'll be called."

"Kid, she's more stubborn than you some days." He gave her shoulder one last squeeze. "G'night, kid."

"Night, Bobby."


	5. Chapter 5

Part V

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So this guy by the name of von Goethe once said, "What does not kill me makes me stronger." It always made me wonder exactly how close to death this guy came or if he ever truly lost all the will to live. For to really understand, you have to stare down death, look his metaphorical, bad-ass self right in the eyes, and somehow still find a reason to go on living. 

Darien stared at his ceiling. His ceiling. In his apartment. That still hadn't sunk in. They'd sent him home. Alone. Oh, Claire had spent a good hour going over everything, then left him with some pills for pain, a list of things to do and not do, stuff to eat and drink within easy reach in the fridge, and the rolling chair of doom beside his bed. Then she said she'd stop back later, around dinnertime, and see how he was doing.

How he was doing? They'd sent him home and abandoned him, just as he had both known and feared they would do. Hobbes had stopped by while Claire and Flannery were getting him settled, but he didn't stay very long, claiming he had work that needed doing.

"Bullshit!" It took him a moment to realize he'd said that aloud. "God damn it all!" He picked up the glass of water on the nightstand and flung it across the room to smash into the far wall, just to the left of his bathroom door. The glass was pretty darn tough; as fair-sized pieces bounced all the way back near his bed.

He been lying there stunned for the last several hours, but now he was angry. The 'Fish didn't want to pay for the cost of a hospital, so they sent him home, thinking he could fend for himself. The man truly did not give a damn. Apparently no one else did either. Claire bailed after only an hour, Bobby had stayed all of five minutes and Alyx...well, Alyx was doing exactly as he'd asked, he couldn't deny that. She was staying away, getting on with her life.

Getting on with her life. That thought made him pause. Maybe it was now time for him to get on with his. Or rather, with his lack of one. The bullet that had taken his legs had also robbed him of his life, as surely as if it had struck him in the heart. All that remained for him now was to finish the work that metal slug had begun. He didn't want to spend the next forty or fifty years lying here, abandoned, helpless, and alone, locked in his apartment with fifteen cats for company. Living off the pity of others and some pitiful excuse for a government pension while he wasted away into a shadow of his former self.

He was only slightly surprised that the action he was contemplating bothered him so little. He could only feel a sense of relief that he might actually be able to escape the dismal future he saw ahead of him.

He ran through his options. No gun in the house -- they still didn't trust him with one. A knife? No, too difficult -- he'd have to get to the kitchen to find one, and he wanted no part of that rolling hell machine. Well, he could always hold the pillow over his face and try to suffocate himself. That almost made him smile.

Looking about, he spotted the shards of glass lying on the floor nearby. The light glinting off them showed they should be more than sharp enough for what he needed. It was just a matter of getting to one of them.

Rolling partially on his side, he gauged the distance down to the floor. It wasn't all that far, he convinced himself after a moment, and he began to maneuver himself closer to the edge of the bed. This was going to be interesting; good thing he'd been working on his upper body the last few months. He shouldn't have lost much, if any arm strength over the last few days.

Once positioned, he leaned over the side and placed his palms flat on the floor. Dragging his legs, he walked his hands out and allowed himself slip off the bed. The muscles of his arms shaking with the strain, he shifted so that he ended up sitting on the floor. His legs came off the bed suddenly; hitting the floor with a solid thump that he suspected would have been painful if he could feel anything. Of course, if he could feel something, he wouldn't be doing this, now would he? He'd probably be off with Hobbes, and maybe Alyx, once again striving not to get his ass shot off for the sake of God and Country.

Well, he'd done enough for God and Country. It was time for someone else to have a turn.

Shifting sideways with his arms, he slid himself across the smooth floor until the piece of glass he'd chosen lay in easy reach. He picked it up carefully and examined it. Identifying the sharpest edge, he grasped the shard firmly, being careful not to cut his palm. A blood-slick piece of glass would be difficult to hold onto, and he didn't want to have to try this more than once. It would be difficult enough when he switched to do his right wrist.

Turning over his left arm, he dispassionately contemplated the network of veins running from wrist to elbow, debating which one would be best. He was no fool, and he'd been around the block more times than his so-called friends could know. Some of the things he'd seen over the years would shock the hell out of them, no matter how worldly, jaded, or cynical they thought they were.

He'd been the one to find his roommate, after all, unconscious and bleeding in the bathroom of their tiny apartment. Been the one to slow the bleeding from the deep cuts across his wrists, long enough for the paramedics to arrive. The one his roommate had screamed at in rage and anguish for his interference. Between that fun experience, his few abortive forays into Kevin's medical texts, and some of the nastier crap he'd seen in prison, he knew more than enough about the anatomy of death to do this right the first time.

In those younger and happier days, he hadn't been able comprehend the despair which had driven his roommate to attempt suicide. Life with the quicksilver gland, however, had long since enlightened him. In the first year or so of his sentence at the Agency, especially after a few of his brushes with quicksilver madness, he'd hit low points and had moments when he'd contemplated this path. But never, until now, had the hopelessness crashed in upon him so hard that he'd gotten to this point, with a blade of glass hovering mere inches above his skin.

Now, finally, he thought he truly understood. Making his choice, he set the piece of glass against one of the more prominent veins, preparing to press inward and slice up towards his elbow, exposing the vein for the full length of his forearm. He'd bleed out in a matter of minutes, even if he failed to make a matching cut on his right arm. He'd be long gone and stone cold by the time Claire showed this evening. Perhaps he'd even be long enough dead to render the gland unsalvageable. It was a faint hope, but one that gave him a bit of wistful satisfaction in this moment of total loss.

He tried to press the glass through his flesh, to start this ending he had chosen to write for himself, but then he paused as, for a long timeless moment, images assaulted him.

Bobby: Risking everything he held dear to go with a totally quicksilver-mad Darien on his insane hunt for Arnaud. Standing by his side against the Official, time and time again. Taking him down a peg or two when necessary. Commiserating with him when life sucked. Believing in him, when it seemed no one else would.

Claire: Her concern and care when he lay dying of Arnaud's magic flu. Helping him through the long month of blindness. Keeping his secrets, and going behind the Official's back to help him, at least when it came to getting the gland out. Teaching him some responsibility, even though it had been the last thing he'd wanted to be burdened with.

Alyx: Alyx, who he had learned, would do just about anything for him. Who accepted him for what he was and never once tried to change him. Who had promised him so many things, and delivered on most of them. To whom he had also made a promise, a promise that now lay shattered, like the glass he'd thrown across the room.

A shard of which he now held in his hand. He could feel the edge pressing against his flesh, digging in and breaking the skin. A single drop of blood beaded up underneath the sharp point of glass.

One quick motion and it would be done. Everything would be over. He would be free, would join the rest of his family in whatever lay beyond this life. He could walk into the arms of death, comforted by the knowledge that his fears, his despair, and his misery would be left behind.

__

'But did he really want to leave it all behind?' an annoying little voice in his head suddenly whispered. One small but tenacious part of his mind refused to surrender to pessimism, refused to believe that his friends, who had stood by him through so much in the past few years, would really abandon him to his fate. A faint flicker of life and hope guttered and flared within him, trying to beat back the encroaching darkness. The fear, the hate, the despair, the loneliness -- they were transitory, the voice whispered. He simply had to be willing to let go of them, instead of grasping onto them so tightly that they strangled him. Instead of letting them win.

He came back to himself with a rush. Looking down, he saw a thin trail of blood running around the curve of his wrist and dripping onto the floor between his knees.

"Ah, crap," he said in a shaky voice, as his resolve melted away. The moment was past, the decision overturned, but now he was afraid to move his hand. "Shit. Damn. And now, of course, when I finally decide I need help, no one is around."

He felt an icy...something settle over the hand holding the glass shard. For a shuddering moment, he thought it was death himself, come to finish the job. But then the something resolved itself into a hand, firmly holding his in place and keeping him from doing more damage to himself. A hand that had shed quicksilver onto the floor about him. Slowly, his hand was lifted away and the glass removed from his nerveless grip.

He lifted his head to see the last person he'd expected, even though the quicksilver flakes had given it away. "Alyx?" He wasn't too sure of his sanity in that moment.

She met his eyes. "Do you really want help, or should I just hand this back to you?" She lifted the bloodstained piece of glass to where he couldn't help but see it and was forced to acknowledge that he had actually gone that far.

"Help. Please." He barely heard himself. Part of him wanted to be angry at her, for not doing as he had asked. For not keeping her promise. Still, holding his hand, she must have caught the gist of what he was thinking. What his roiling, bouncing, flip-flopping emotions were driving him to.

"I promised to stay away if it would make you happy. Somehow, I don't think this qualifies." She set the glass down on the floor, out of his reach, and then wrapped her arms about him and drew him into a much-needed hug. For both of them.

Darien just shuddered and buried his face against her shoulder, his arms curling around, up under her hair. He held on for dear life. For long minutes he did nothing but shake, as all the emotion he'd been holding in for days finally found its way to the surface. He released one long, drawn-out sob, and then held her even tighter. He had no idea how long they sat there, with her straddled across his thighs. Her hands ran through his hair in random patterns, doing an amazing job at calming him, at bringing him back to reality, to himself.

When he finally found himself calm enough to think again, he lifted his head to look at her. She had tears running down her cheeks, too, but she was able to meet his eyes without flinching. "Alyx, I..."

She silenced him with a finger on his lips. "Not now." Leaning away from him, she brought his hands in front of her. He froze when he realized most of his left arm was covered in a thin sheen of blood. He paled, feeling suddenly nauseous. She applied pressure to the wound, which was still bleeding sluggishly, with the fingers of one hand, while the other came up to caress his cheek. "Easy. Breathe slowly. You're fine."

She took his right hand and had him take over applying pressure; he was too stunned, to frightened, to do anything but what she wordlessly directed. She kissed him lightly and got to her feet. Following her movements with his eyes, he watched her carefully make her way through the broken glass and into the bathroom. Her light gray T-shirt was darkened with blood from mid back up, most of it hidden under her hair. She came back out a minute later; her hair now twisted up out of the way, with various bits first aid gear in her hands. She paused in the doorway; with a thought, the shattered remains of the glass lifted into the air and found their way to a nearby trash can with barely a sound.

When she returned to his side, the first thing he noticed was that she was wearing that god-awful orange nail polish on her toes again. For some reason, this struck him as the funniest thing he'd seen in ages. Unable to hold it in, he burst out in hysterical laughter. Every time he thought he'd gotten control back, he'd look at her, see her standing there with her eyebrows raised, and break out into another round of giggles. It was several long minutes before he was able to gain control of himself. He'd been laughing so hard that tears were running down his cheeks and he was having a hard time breathing.

She squatted down in front of him and took his hand back into her own. "Mook," she admonished whimsically. She quickly cleaned the area around the wound and disinfected the small, deep cut, then applied a bandage with clear, waterproof medical tape. When she was done, she reached up and brushed his hair off his forehead. "Better?"

Darien nodded, not quite sure of his voice.

"Good. Now you are going to take a long, relaxing bath and turn yourself back into a human being." She paused, looking him over. "If you'll let me help."

For an instant, Darien wanted to yell at her to get away, that help of this kind was not what he needed, but he bit back the harsh words. "Yeah. Guess I could use some."

She got to her feet and got the rolling chair of death, which she parked beside him and locked the wheels. She must have seen the look of combined disgust and hate on his face. "Would you rather crawl?"

He looked up at her sharply. It wasn't that she'd been cruel; in fact, her voice was soft. "I don't want to be like this at all."

"I know, but you are for now." She stepped away. "I'll start your bath; come on in when you're ready." And with that, she picked up the first aid supplies that she hadn't used and left him sitting there on the floor staring after her. Seconds later, he could hear the sound of running water.

He just sat there for several minutes, feeling lost. She stuck her head out of the bathroom. "Look, you figured out how to get out of that bed on your own. I think you can manage this." Then she disappeared from sight again.

Grumbling under his breath, he moved the short distance to the wheel chair and, after a moment to decide exactly how he was going to attempt this, levered himself up into the thing. He made the minimal adjustments necessary, unlocked the wheels, and rolled himself across the room. It was a tight fit through the doorway, but he did it. He frowned at Alyx, who was waiting patiently by his sink. To Darien's mind, climbing in the chair was like admitting something was wrong, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

She ignored his glowering. "Do you want help and, if so, how much?"

The anger was returning; he couldn't, and perhaps didn't want to, stop it. "I'll manage," he growled at her. She gave him a quick nod and just left the room, leaving him to try and figure out how to strip and get into that tub on his own. "Shit," he muttered.

All right, start at the top. Shifting, he was able to pull his shirt off without too much trouble. His lower back was a bit stiff, but nothing like yesterday before the massage. Tossing the shirt in the direction of his hamper, he the reached back and felt the bandage that covered the bullet wound, and the stitches he was sure to have from the removal. It was the tape on his wrist that made him realize he'd already run into a problem he couldn't handle.

"Um, Alyx?"

"Yes?" she called from somewhere in his apartment.

"Do I need to put something over my stitches? They aren't supposed to get wet, are they?" He didn't want her mad at him again, or for her to make him feel foolish. He might not be directly suicidal any longer, but he still hadn't dragged himself up out of the depression. He was barely willing to admit that he was going to have to deal with this situation.

She stood just outside the doorway. "First off, there are no stitches, and second, yes, it needs to be kept dry for now."

Apparently that was all the help she was going to give at this point and he fought back the urge to snap at her. To yell that he couldn't do it himself even if he were perfectly fine. It was too damn awkward a position. "Would you mind..."

She nodded and fetched the clear waterproof tape. Standing beside him, she said, "Lean forward." He complied, and she quickly covered the area. She patted him on the shoulder to let him know she was finished. "Anything else?"

He swallowed hard. Anger warred with embarrassment. "Not right now."

Her look softened. "I'll be nearby, just holler if you need anything." She returned the tape to the counter next to his sink and left him alone again.

He suddenly realized there was a necessary bodily function he had to deal with before climbing into that tub. He glared over at the toilet. "Ah, crap." Trying not to think about what he was doing, he simply went one step at a time. There was no way in hell he was going to ask for help for this.

When he relaxed into the bathtub about ten minutes later, he was feeling a weird sense of accomplishment. Slumping down a bit more, with his eyes closed, he let the hot water and bubbles -- yes bubbles -- soak away the aches and discomforts the day had imposed upon him. He was slowly realizing that maybe he could actually do this. He didn't have to like it, or the situation, but maybe he could do it.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there before he realized he was getting rather thirsty. He could feel the sweat running down the sides of his face. Opening his eyes, he saw Alyx leaning against the doorframe, watching him with half-closed eyes. She had changed out of the blood-soaked shirt and into one that was obviously his. Not that he cared about the shirt. With a shock, he remembered his rather undressed and incapable condition and blushed bright red with embarrassment. "Uh, could you go? I don't really need you seeing me like this."

"Like what? Naked? Please. Who is it with a penchant for walking about my place with very little on?" She wasn't laughing and wasn't accusing. In fact, she seemed rather tired. Stepping into the room, she handed him a bottle of beer.

"Thanks, but I don't think I'm supposed to." He didn't need Claire bitching at him later.

"Don't worry about it." She urged it at him and he took it with a mental shrug. After examining the bottle for a moment, he took a long drink, easing the dryness of his throat. She sat down with her back against the side of the tub and her knees drawn up to her chest. "Talk to me, please."

He took another large swallow of the beer and hoped the alcohol would kick in soon; he needed the false courage. "Alyx, I didn't want to force you into taking care of me. You have a life, and you don't need a cripple to complicate it."

Alyx shook her head. "Damn it, Darien, did I force you to help me when my mind was scrambled?" She didn't give him a chance to answer. "No, I didn't. You helped because you cared, because we were... friends. Without your help, I'd probably be in some government nut-house, drugged to the gills to keep me from hurting anyone. I owe you my sanity, my life." She lowered her chin to her knees. "Do you think I could do any less for you? Do you really think something this...this insignificant could change how I feel? If you'd rather see this as a return for a debt I owe you, fine, but please don't send me away. Not without a good reason." Her voice became softer. "I need you, Darien."

Darien suddenly felt like a complete fool. "Ah, hell, Alyx. I didn't know what else to do. I don't want your pity."

"Pity? Why the hell would I pity you?" He could tell she was close to losing what little hold she had on her emotions. He had hurt her terribly, and still she had found it within herself to be willing to help him, even though he was convinced it was the wrong thing for her to do.

"Alyx, come on. You'll still be working at the Agency while I'm rolling about the beach collecting soda cans to make ends meet." He sounded resigned to the situation at this point, and closed his eyes, not wanting to look at her.

"Darien Fawkes, you can be such a thick-headed idiot at times." His eyes snapped open at her words and exasperated tone. "You really didn't listen to one word Claire said, did you?"

"I'm not stupid," he snapped. "I know what this means." Using the bottle, he waved at his legs, which were propped carefully along the sides of the tub. "I'm paralyzed. That's not something you fix."

"You are wrong." She pushed herself to her feet. "Your condition is temporary. You were just too busy wallowing in self-pity and hurting your friends to bother listening." She grabbed a couple of items, including a face cloth and the body wash he liked, and put them in easy reach for him. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Before he allowed himself to think about what she had just said, he finished the remainder of the beer. Bringing one hand up to rub his forehead, he noticed the bandage she had so recently applied. Blood had soaked into it, reminding him of the dangerous step he had very nearly taken. And for nothing, if what Alyx had said was true. He did remember Claire saying something about him getting full use back with some work. He wasn't sure what that meant, though. His confused contemplation was interrupted by pain, as sharp as electric knives stabbing their way down his legs. Gritting his teeth, he groaned, trying not to either smash his head back into the tile of the wall or slip down under the water, where he might not be able save himself before drowning.

He heard something smash to the floor elsewhere in the apartment, but could not do anything about it until the pain subsided, leaving the muscles of his legs twitching in reaction. "Al..." he cleared his throat. "Alyx, you okay?"

Her voice sounded as shaky as his had. "Yes, just give me a minute."

When she appeared a few minutes later, with another beer for him, she looked dead pale.

"Alyx?" he asked as he took the beer from her.

"I'm fine, but I killed another glass." She backed away a couple of steps, shaking a bit. "I have to finish dinner." She practically ran from the room, and he wondered what the hell had happened.

She never dropped anything, or if she did, it would never hit the floor. Her abilities saw to that. Whatever had happened had to be major, to his way of thinking. He fingered the ring that lay against his chest and drank about half the bottle, the effects of the first already erasing the last vestiges of pain from his back and legs. Maybe he should consider getting out soon, before he found himself unable to.

Bracing his arms against the lip of the tub, he shifted to sit up a bit more and, after another sip, set the bottle on the floor. Picking up the face cloth and soap, he worked on getting himself as clean as he could manage. Not that he was all that dirty after soaking in the suds-filled water all this time, but after days of nothing but sponge baths given by orderlies in the hospital, it was a pleasant change. What he really wanted to do, though, was wash his hair. He looked up to the shelf where his shampoo and conditioner sat, and knew he'd never be able to get them. At least not easily.

Alyx appeared just then, seemingly by magic. "Need some help?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind." When she smiled, really smiled, it was like a huge weight fell away from him. He pointed up at what he wanted and she moved to get it for him. She handed the items to him, but instead of taking them from her, he grasped her wrist. "Alyx, I'm sorry." He tugged lightly, and she allowed herself to be drawn down to crouch next to him. "I forgot my promise to you, and I... I shouldn't have. Especially now."

"What do you want from me, Darien? You know I'll do anything, within reason." Her look was frank, her words nothing less that the truth. "If my being here hurts you more than it helps, I'll go."

"Stay," he said softly. "For as long as you want." Releasing her wrist, he removed the bottles from her hands and set them aside.

"For as long as you want me. You should know that by now." She gave him a lopsided grin. "Finish up; dinner is almost ready, and you're turning into a prune."

He found himself returning the grin.

A couple hours later, he was once again sitting on his bed, though this time he wasn't staring at his ceiling or thinking dark thoughts. He had to admit he was feeling better. Between getting clean, actually doing his hair for the first time in days, and then eating a real meal -- he kept forgetting how well Alyx could cook -- he almost felt normal, like himself.

He set aside the book she had handed him when he'd finished eating and turned to watch her as she cleaned up a bit in the kitchen. She was humming quietly to herself as she worked. Looking up at him, she paused. "What?"

"Nothing. I just like looking at you." He grinned. It was true enough.

"You feel up to doing some therapy?" He heard the hesitation in her voice.

"Uh, I guess. What do I have to do?" He had no idea what his recovery would entail, and would have to trust in Claire to disseminate the information he needed.

"Start simple; flex your feet, first the right and then the left." When it was obvious he didn't understand, she continued, explaining. "You need to remind yourself how to do it. To help reestablish the connection between your thick head and your legs." She was trying not to smile at her word choice, but he knew she was just being silly. "You were very lucky, Darien."

Concentrating, he attempted to do what she suggested, but because he could neither feel nor see any reaction, he was unsure how successful he was being. "And how is this lucky?"

"Well, considering the shot should have gone straight through and most likely killed you, I'd say you were damn lucky." He froze at her words and turned to look at her. She was currently out of sight, putting some pans away in their cabinet, based on the sound effects.

Pulling himself back together, he continued trying to flex his feet. "And? There has to be something else. There always is."

Alyx sighed as she came back into view. "The quicksilver makes your system unique. It appears to be...oh, enhancing the nerve function. Which is why you keep getting those shooting pains through your legs. Your body is trying to reestablish the connection, like a foot after falling asleep, only magnified a bit."

"Goody," he muttered as he glared at his right foot, demanding that it flex for him.

"Darien, that pain is the best sign you could hope for. It proves the nerves still function as they should, are still sending the necessary signals." She turned away and retrieved a glass, which she filled with some white wine. Then she turned off the kitchen light and joined him on the bed. "That's what a lot of those tests Claire was doing were for. To see if the nerves were still working. There are some other therapies that will help speed up the process as well." She looked him in the eye. "It'll just take some work on your part."

"How long?" He knew he shouldn't ask, was afraid of the answer.

"Claire's guess is about a month and you'll be walking without assistance."

He shook his head; positive he had not heard her correctly. "Not possible. Not with spinal damage."

"Normally no, but your damage was mostly created by secondary causes and, like I said, the quicksilver changes the equation." Alyx set the glass of wine down on the nightstand. "Have a little faith."

Faith was not something he was real big on, but he didn't bother telling her that. She knew him well enough by now. Switching to his left foot for a while, he was trying to convince it to flex when the pain returned. He almost failed to notice it, though, as he watched his foot actually move, much to his total astonishment. When the pain finally passed, he looked over at Alyx, who had moved to support him when he'd tried to fling himself backwards in reaction. Maybe... maybe a little faith wouldn't hurt.

"Please tell me you saw that." He couldn't keep the astonishment out of his voice, nor the hope.

"Yes, I saw it. You starting to believe now?" She had moved so that she was right beside him, talking softly right into his ear. One hand still rested lightly on his back.

He turned to face her. She was just inches away, close enough to smell her shampoo, the wine she'd been drinking, the subtle scent that was her. One of his hands snaked up to rest on the back of her neck and pulled her closer, eliminating the last of the distance between them. He pressed his lips against hers with no demands, no intention other than to seek and perhaps give a bit of comfort through a more intimate touch. She resisted at first, but the gentle caress of his fingers on her neck and his feather light touch on her lips wore away the last of her hurt. He knew it instantly, felt her entire body soften and relax, but chose not to take advantage of it. He pulled away and rested his forehead against hers.

"A month, huh?"

"Uh, huh. You'll see. You'll be back to your old troublemaking self in no time." There was amusement in her voice and her eyes. "I promise."

Those two words were enough to make him truly believe that he might actually make it through this with both his mind and body intact. That he might very well walk again, work again, and be worthy of her again. Maybe this... experience was nothing more than a reminder of his mortality, a reminder to value what he had, a reminder that there were people out there who cared for him no matter what. A reminder of how easily it could all be lost. Once upon a time, he'd thought he could fall no lower when he found himself in prison for life. He'd been wrong. In one hellish day, weeks later, he'd lost both his brother and the life he'd known. In return, he'd gained friends and a family of sorts in the Agency, though it had taken him a long time to realize it.

No, things weren't perfect, but things never were. Perfection would be awfully dull. Maybe it was time to stop seeing this life as the imprisonment it had been for so long -- admittedly self-imposed to a degree these days -- and to just start living.


	6. Chapter 6

Part VI

Darien was jerked out of a sound sleep for the third time, as every nerve from the waist down decided to fire at once and remind him that he was not the man he used to be. He bit his lip and kept the shout that wanted to escape inside. If it weren't for the fact that he knew this was a good thing, he'd seriously consider doing something drastic to end it.

As the pain faded, though, he regretted that thought immediately. He would endure it. He would get better, get well. And if he didn't... He took a moment to consider that. Even Claire wasn't infallible, so permanent impairment could still be a possibility he'd have to face. He would, he decided, try to live the best life he could, whatever the circumstances, with friends who cared about him. He would still have his mind and his hands; he'd be able to find something he could do, something he could enjoy. Heck, he could go back to school, and finish this time, get a degree in a subject he liked and see where that took him.

He buried his face into Alyx's hair, thankful that he'd not woken her up this time. The last time his legs had flared into agony, she'd spent twenty minutes massaging the cramps out of his lower back just so he could fall back to sleep. They'd talked for a while, until the need for sleep had attacked him with a vengeance. What really surprised him was that she was treating him the same as always. Somehow he knew that, even if he never walked again, that still wouldn't change. To her he'd still be the same person he had always been.

She had told him something of the fear she had felt while watching him earlier as he fell towards the abyss, forcing herself to stand back and do nothing to stop him. But she hadn't asked Darien what had changed his mind, why he'd suddenly found himself unable to end it all, to end the misery he believed he would face. Why he'd suddenly found himself able to step back from the ledge and actually want to live. He wasn't too sure himself. He'd just known somehow that death was not the answer, not now.

Moving away slightly, he worked the chain up and over his head with one hand. His other arm was underneath her, their fingers tangled together up under her chin. Working slowly and by feel alone, he got the chain undone and slid the ring off it. Finding her right hand, he slid the ring back on her finger, where it belonged. She sighed in her sleep and snuggled back against him, as if part of her knew what he had done and was pleased with his decision.

As soon as she had settled, he brushed the hair off her face and lifted himself slightly to whisper in her ear. "Partners. In all things." If nothing else, he felt the need to remind himself of the promise. To say it out loud, if even if she really wouldn't hear him right now. Sometime soon he'd say it to her when she was awake, but for now this would do.

Settling himself back down, he curled against her so that he cheek rested in the cup formed by the curve of her neck and allowed himself to drift back into sleep.

Darien was rolling himself back and forth in the space at the foot of his bed when Alyx came out of the bathroom, still braiding her hair back. He did a double take, and then had to fight the urge to laugh at her. She was wearing the one and only clean pair of jeans she had left at his apartment. That pair, unfortunately, had had a run-in with a bottle of bleach at some point, and then had accidentally been washed with some of his more vividly colored shirts. All the bleached areas had turned this odd, glowing shade of yellow, and the rest of the fabric had taken on a sickly greenish hue. They were ugly as all get out, but perhaps that was the point. She'd even taken it one step further by going through his collection of shirts and pulling out the dark red one that proudly proclaimed 'Bite me!' across the front.

The boss was just going to love this.

"Well, now I know why you picked this shirt for me to wear." He failed to keep the grin off his face. He was currently wearing a comfortable pair of jeans and that snug, orange, short-sleeved shirt that she claimed caused her eyes to water. Of course, that just made him want to wear it more often.

"What? You don't like the fact that the orange just screams 'target'?" She moved closer to him. "Besides, you match my toes now." She squatted down before him and set her right hand on his knee. "How are you feeling?"

He set his hand over hers. "Better. Not great, but better." Part of him still wanted to crawl back into bed, pull the covers up over his head, and ignore the rest of the world. He was still somewhat depressed and angry, but the despair and the conviction that he was worthless like this were mostly gone. "Do we really have to go in today? We could make some popcorn and watch movies." He was at least half-serious, and she knew it.

"Tempting, but we really should find out who did this to you, don't you think?" Her logic was annoyingly impeccable, as always.

"Great, I'll get to spend the day down in the Keep, bored, while you and Bobby get to work."

She snorted. "And since when did you want to work?" She shook her head at him. "You still have eyes and arms and, hopefully, a brain hidden under all that hair. You're gonna help, believe me; we have hours of video to go through. By the time we're done, you're gonna wish you'd gotten to stay down in the Keep being poked and prodded all day."

Darien groaned and Alyx laughed quietly. She got to her feet and walked over to the closet to get out her sneakers. She'd snuck them in there yesterday while Claire had been keeping him busy. Darien knew Claire had to have been in on this, but he wasn't really angry. He could probably even convince himself it had been justified. If he'd stayed in the hospital, he would have just continued his downward spiral and not been able to stop it. At least this way he'd been forced to face his issues head-on, had hit bottom and gotten past the worst of it, and could see how foolish and self-centered he had been.

Now that he could think with some vague resemblance to rationality, he knew that this involved more than just himself. He even remembered Hobbes saying something about maybe Alyx being the real target, and that he could still be in danger. Marvelous.

"I know it's not that much fun, but I'd rather not having you moping about here alone all day, and we can protect you better at the Agency." She moved over to his door and opened it. "Besides, then you wouldn't get to use this."

Alyx turned about and rolled a slick-looking set of wheels towards him. The wheelchair he was looking at only shared a vague relationship to the beast he sat in. If he was currently sputtering along in a Yugo, the piece before him was a souped-up Viper.

"I thought this might be a bit more your style." She was watching him very carefully as she moved closer, as if unsure of his reaction. "Darien?"

"Ummm, yeah. Where did you find that thing?" He was both stunned and repelled by it. It was bad enough to find himself in this one, but for her to think he might want another... He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

"I'm sorry. I thought you'd be more comfortable in this one." She didn't sound upset; in fact, she sounded rather cool. This was not a good sign.

"Alyx, don't be. I'm still just not...." He stopped shaking his head. "It hasn't quite sunk in yet, okay?"

"Believe me, I know." She parked the new chair next to him. "I came home to find you not only hurt, but refusing to see me. Bobby was completely guilt-ridden and near suicidal; Claire was a total mess, worried that the Official might do something stupid; and all you could do was lie there wishing the rest of the world would forget you existed." She locked the wheels and stepped away. "I know."

It had never even occurred to him that anyone else might be upset about this. That it had done anything more than cause some lost sleep for the Keeper, maybe. Bobby had apologized for two days straight until Darien had simply begun to ignore him, but that Bobby might have been feeling more than just a little guilt never crossed his mind. Not that he'd been using it at the time.

He realized that she hadn't mentioned how his being hurt had affected her. "Alyx, what happens if Claire is wrong and I can never walk again?" When she looked like she was going to protest, he said, "Humor me."

She moved over towards the counter and ran her fingers along the surface. "You'd have some decisions to make about what you'd want to do."

"The gland." Darien watched as she turned to face him.

"The gland, where you'd want to live. A few other things. And stuff the panhandling crap; don't forget about your offshore account. I think you could manage to live quite comfortably off of that." She wasn't grinning, not even a hint of a smile.

He had forgotten about that account, and she was right. Even like this, he could live high on the hog for a long time with that money. He could be doing that already, actually, but except for a couple small items he had pretty much ignored it. "It's Arnaud's money. I'd rather forget it existed."

"Oh, cut the self-righteous crap, Darien. Like you never planned on spending the five mil you stole from his casino." Her voice dripped sarcasm. "Think of the money as some payback for what he did to you and to Kevin. It's there if you need it."

Okay, she had him there. He'd had quite a few uses planned for that money, but had lost it and very nearly himself before he'd had a chance to. And now he'd upset her again. "Alyx," he began, but she had turned away from him again, her back stiff, every line of her body proclaiming that now would be a good time to shut the hell up.

Leaving her alone for now, he looked over at the new chair and decided he might as well give it a try. Unstrapping his legs, he made sure the wheels were locked on both before shifting himself over. The difference was immediately noticeable. The support was different, and fit better to his frame. As he made the adjustments for his legs, he decided he was going to like this piece of machinery. It was stripped down in comparison to the standard-issue one, designed for someone who would be moving a lot as opposed to sitting in place for long stretches. There were no armrests, and the wheels were designed to allow for better control with the brakes. A simple flick of his thumb could set them, and there was even a secondary control that allowed them to be used to slow the chair. She had obviously kept his height in mind when choosing, as his legs were bent comfortably and not sticking out in front of him to whack into every single thing because of their length. The chair was also narrower, which would allow him to pass through the substandard width of the doorways at the Agency with far greater ease.

Flicking off the brakes, he rolled over to Alyx and stopped behind her. Reaching out, he set a hand on her back to get her attention. "Hey, you still talking to me?"

Turning about she looked down at him. She sighed. "Yes, for now anyway." Then she got this twinkle in her eyes. "I think I could get used to this."

"To what?" Darien was looking at her, wondering what she was talking about this time.

Leaning over, she put her face on the same level as his. "Being taller than you. It has such potential." She moved closer, almost but not quite touching him. Her eyes fluttered shut, and he swallowed hard.

He had to convince himself she wasn't being cruel, intentionally or not, that she didn't want him in this chair any more than he wanted to be here. That she was trying to find a bit of humor and ease the tension in a situation that was painful for both of them. He reached out and caressed her face, watching as her features relaxed just that last bit, smoothing out the few lines that had been there. When her hand settled atop his free one, he suddenly got a flood of emotions. He could feel her trying to stop them from bombarding him, from forcing him to know how confused and hurt she still was, how frightened for him she was, how she feared losing him to depression and despair again.

All this happened in less time than a thought and she tried to pull her hand away, but he stopped her, holding her hand firmly in his own. Once they'd taken their relationship that last step, he never allowed himself to be bothered by these small lapses in her control. Without them, he might never have understood exactly how deep her feelings for him ran. So he held on, and watched as her eyes flew open to stare at him in surprise.

"Darien, please." She tried, without any real strength, to free her hand from his hold. "Please!" There was a hint of panic in her voice now, and he allowed her to pull away. She stood up and backed away a couple of steps.

"Alyx..." She shook her head and he stopped. When he didn't continue, she closed her eyes and went about slowing her breathing. It took her several minutes, but she finally regained control, at least outwardly, and Darien could only wonder what it was that had set her off, what she had picked up from him that made her want to get away from him.

"Come on. We're already late, and Claire is expecting you." She moved around him, giving him a wide berth, and picked up his black leather jacket, which she tossed to him as he rolled up behind her. Once he had struggled into it, she handed him a pair of fingerless gloves with tough leather across the palms. "Until you build up calluses, you might want those."

He knew she was right, but decided to wait until later to put them on and stuffed them into one of the jacket pockets. When he looked back at her, her jacket and backpack had magically appeared and she had her keys in her hand. He could see that she was still upset about something, but followed her lead and made no comment about it. She'd tell him, or not, when she was ready and not before. He made an attempt at humor. "Can I drive?"

She shook her head, a small smile gracing her lips. "Not today, I think. Now come on, before Claire starts a manhunt." She opened the door a waved for him to go first. "After you."

Bobby yawned and rubbed his eyes. He had lost the ability to focus about twenty minutes ago but hadn't realized it until now. He paused the tape and looked over at Alyx, who was fast-forwarding through one of her own. They'd spent the last several hours going through videotapes from the area around where Fawkes had been shot, with no luck. He'd been doing it for an hour before she showed up, but she had made up for it by running through the tapes twice as fast. The pile was slowly getting smaller, though without the results they were hoping for.

Security at the Cruise ship dock had been a bust. Whoever set them up had been smart enough to disarm the security systems there completely, and without setting off any of the back up alarms. They had some vague eyewitness accounts of funny-looking black jeeps being in the area earlier that morning, but the sources were questionable, as they were mostly drunks and transients who lived or had crashed overnight in the area.

So far they had Bobby's account and a possible location for the shooter, and nothing else. Zip, zero, zilch, nada, bupkus. And he was getting cross-eyed from staring at the crappy video images that most of these places had. He heard Alyx grumble as she ejected and then switched to a new tape.

"This bites," she snarled as she hit the fast forward button, her eyes glued to the screen before her.

"I agree, but it has to be done." Bobby hit the play button and turned back to the screen.

"But it would be so much faster with the digital transfer machine. We could load all the images into the computer and let it look for matches." She ejected the tape and reached for the next one.

"Huh? You mean we don't have to be staring at these?" He waved at the monitor in front of him.

Alyx paused hers and looked over at him. "Nope, but Ms. Pritchard turned down my request." She sighed. "This is one of those occasions when I miss Eberts."

"The cold-hearted, snake skinned, tighta...." He trailed off, looking at Alyx, who was staring intently at his screen.

"Rewind your tape Bobby." She got to her feet and moved over beside him.

"Huh? Sure." He rewound until she motioned for him to stop.

It played a bit before Alyx said, "Freeze." On the screen was a mini van with a tired-looking mom ignoring the off center camera taking her picture.

"What, kid? She's just a soccer mom feeding the troops." He saw nothing remarkable about the picture.

"Not her. That." She tapped the upper corner of the screen where vehicles driving by on the PCH could be picked up. According to the manager of the Jack in the Box, the camera had been knocked off center by a rather enthusiastic group of twenty-somethings out partying the night before. "Tell me that isn't a 'funny looking jeep'."

On the road, partially hidden by some landscaping, was a Humvee. It was just barely in the camera shot. "Damn kid, good catch." He checked the time code and figured out this shot had been taken about three minutes after Fawkes had been hit. Leaving the tape where it was, he sorted through the others, looking for the nearest businesses to the fast food place. Alyx had moved to do the same. Within an hour, they had a rough outline of the vehicle's movements in the seven minutes following the shooting. By some miracle, they'd also gotten a partial plate and were hoping that, with some enhancement, they'd get more. They still weren't entirely sure where he'd parked to take the shot, but they had a place to start.

Alyx was about to pick up her phone to speak with the Official when there was a knock at her door. Before she got a chance to say anything, Ms. Pritchard opened it and stepped in with a pinched look on her face. She took one look at Alyx and her rather unique attire and the look only tightened more, making her look decidedly like a dried prune.

"Agent Silver, do you think it is at all possible you could control your..." She paused with a pained expression on her face. "Your boyfriend? He's doing wheelies in the halls and disrupting the accounting department."

Wheelies? In the halls? Bobby realized Fawkes must have gotten bored and started goofing around in the wheelchair. At least he wasn't moping about any longer. Whatever had happened yesterday had obviously helped and gotten Fawkes past the worst of his depression.

"No," Alyx said as she made a few more notes on the paper before her. "You have a problem with him, talk to him."

Ms. Pritchard stiffened. Bobby hadn't thought it possible. He hadn't realized ice could get harder than frozen solid.

"Miss Silver, it is not my job to baby-sit bored agents, no matter how self-important they think they are." She looked Alyx up and down, her nose wrinkling in distaste. "Given your status, you could be more responsible in both your attitude and..." she sniffed. "Attire."

Bobby saw the slight narrowing of Alyx's eyes as she lifted her head to look at Ms. Pritchard. He watched as she casually walked around the desk to stand before the taller woman. When she looked the woman up and down, Bobby knew an explosion was imminent. He just wondered what form it was going to take, and whether he should take notes or make popcorn.

"Mr. Fawkes is an adult, not a child, and I am neither his mother nor his Keeper. His life is his own and I have no say in it. As to my attire, I have spent the last day and a half trying to help that very same Mr. Fawkes put his life into some sort of order and, except for a very short time to upload some information, have not been home." Bobby was impressed; Alyx almost sounded bored with the entire thing, and it was effective. Ms. Pritchard had frozen in place -- okay, pretty normal -- and her eyes were locked on Alyx's.

"The shirt I wore especially for you." Alyx continued, taking a step forward. Ms. Pritchard actually backed away a step. "Your job is not to lecture me on my partners, my clothing choices, or my life. Your job is to get me the information or equipment I need to get my job done. You have failed to do that, and have wasted my very valuable time by coming in here and attempting to put me in my place." Alyx tipped her head slightly to the side. "I answer to the Official. Not to you. If and when he chooses to admonish my behavior, I will take my actions into consideration. Then, and only then, will I make any necessary changes. Until that day happens, I would suggest you get out of my office and pretend you actually know what you are doing by getting me the equipment I need to get the job done."

The woman didn't move. In fact, it looked like she was about to explode.

"Ms. Prickly, I'd listen to the kid if I were you. You're expendable, as far as the Fat Man is concerned." Bobby waved in the direction of Alyx. "She ain't. He'd fire you in a heartbeat to keep her here."

The woman sucked in a breath, turned precisely on her heel, and left the room, slamming the door behind her. Bobby started laughing. "Holy shit, kid. That was great."

Alyx leaned back against her desk and began to shake with restrained laughter. "I'm sooo glad she gave me an excuse to do that. That woman could freeze the Pacific."

Bobby laughed harder. "Volcanoes would stop flowing after one look."

"Ice rinks would no longer need fancy cooling systems," Alyx added.

"Frosting beer glasses could be done by the gross." Bobby sank back into his chair, nearly in tears he was laughing so hard.

"Thought that was my job," Darien said from the doorway as he looked at the two of them. They'd been laughing so hard they'd never heard him open the door.

"Hey, partner. You're looking better. Spiffy set of wheels." Bobby couldn't help but notice that he did indeed look better. Not quite back to his old self, but not completely withdrawn from the world anymore, either. "You finally wandering in to help, or you planning on annoying the accounting department some more?"

Darien rolled a bit further into the room, noting the stacks of videos, including the one small pile on Alyx's desk. "Ms. Prickly has got a major bug up her ass. I offer a to carry the two foot stack of papers for Diane and the 'ice woman cometh' goes off on me about interfering with the 'vital work necessary to keep this Agency functioning.' That woman makes me wish for the days of Eberts, double agent or not."

Both Bobby and Alyx chuckled, just barely managing to not break out in laughter again. "Fawkes, somehow I don't think she'll be here much longer."

"Thank god," Darien muttered. He really couldn't stand the woman. She reminded him of his fifth grade teacher, who had been as straight-laced as they came and had been convinced that Darien was nothing but trouble. She'd been right, of course, but that wasn't the point. "Claire turned me loose, and I was wondering if you guys wanted to get some lunch?"

His question sounded tentative to Bobby's ears, and he wondered if maybe Fawkes was feeling a bit guilty about his behavior the last few days. "Sure, Fawkes. I know a place. Get you some fresh air and everything."

"Bobby, I refuse to eat at Wadja's hellhole. You may have a cast-iron stomach, but I don't. One of these days, you're gonna get more than you bargain for in one of their burgers." Alyx actually shuddered, and Darien couldn't blame her. He refused to eat at the place himself. Any place with a 'C' rating he avoided like the plague.

"No, not Wadja's. A place I know not too far from here. We'll get some work done as well." Bobby picked up the stack of videos off Alyx's desk, as well as the timeline she'd written down. There was also another request for equipment so that they could speed this up a bit. They needed to get the video into the computer system in order to do the enhancements they needed. "I'll take these to the Chief and let him deal with 'her frostiness'." I'll meet you two at the van in ten minutes." With that, he left the room, leaving Alyx and Darien alone.

She was still leaning against her desk and watching Darien, a bit warily he thought. "Alyx, thank you for not telling Claire, about... about yesterday." He had assumed she would, for his own good, but Claire had said nothing and when he explained about the cut -- claiming it was an attack of klutziness -- she'd simply nodded and changed the bandage.

She nodded at him. "Of course." She pushed away from the desk and moved around it to grab her jacket from the back of her chair. As she came back around, Darien moved to intercept her. Though she'd been laughing just minutes before with Bobby, she now seemed subdued.

"Talk to me." Darien reached out and took a hold of her right hand, rubbing the back of it gently with his thumb. "What happened this morning?"

She shook her head but didn't pull her hand away. "This is neither the time nor the place."

She was meeting his eyes, but they were unreadable. For some reason, that wall she used to hide behind was back, the mask that she used at work once again real, and he couldn't understand why. He'd thought she'd gotten past the hurt last night. She had chosen to sleep with him, in his bed, instead of on the couch like she so easily could have. He'd thought by putting the ring back on her hand that she'd know how he felt, how he wanted their relationship to be. She was just as much a friend as Bobby had become, but he wanted -- needed -- more from her.

He tugged on her hand pulling her closer. She came willingly enough, but her expression never changed. "Alyx, let me back in, please."

Her eyes closed for a second and she relaxed her posture. "I can't. Not till you let me back in." Then she stood and stepped away, his hold on her hand forgotten. "You're still lost in there, Darien. Find yourself first."

Darien followed her movement as she crossed the room to the door and stood there waiting patiently for him to precede her out. They did still have to meet Bobby, even though his hunger had mysteriously vanished.

Pushing the chair, he rolled past her and out into the hall, thinking. He wasn't quite sure what she meant. As far as he was concerned, he was getting better, well, on all fronts. Claire had been more than pleased with both his physical and mental states. She wanted him to start some of the more intensive therapies tomorrow, and he had agreed; if there was the slightest chance he could recover, he'd do whatever was necessary to get there.

His lingering depression and anger were perfectly normal; Claire had said so herself. So long as he didn't allow them to consume him, he should be fine, eventually.

By the time they'd arrived at the van, he was no more enlightened than when Alyx had made her statement. "Alyx, I don't understand."

She leaned her forehead against the side of the van for a moment, then turned to face him. "I can't feel you. It's like a huge, Darien-shaped hole inside me where you used to be. When I touched you this morning, I got nothing." She turned away and unlocked the side door. "And it wasn't me." Her voice was low and full of suppressed emotion.

Well, that would explain the look of panic in her eyes this morning, but it didn't explain what was going on.

"You know I can feel what's happening to you, if you're hurt or something."

Darien nodded. He'd noticed it over the many months they had worked together, but he also knew it happened, to a lesser degree, with Bobby as well.

"Yesterday, when I broke that glass, I 'felt' what you did, but I've not felt another one. Before or since." Alyx slid open the door to the van and sat down on the floor facing Darien. "It's nothing new; you've been blocking me off and on since... since you learned I wasn't dead. It's gotten progressively worse since you decided to stay." She swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, but I did what was necessary. For everyone."

When Darien found himself unsure of what to say, she simply stood and moved into the van and began rearranging a few things, to accommodate the wheelchair, he assumed. He hadn't realized he'd been doing anything of the kind, and was sure it had to be unintentional. He didn't really have anything he wanted to hide from her, was more than willing to sacrifice a little of his privacy in order to have her with him. He had tried to not broadcast what he was feeling when she showed up at the hospital, but wasn't he trying to do that any more. Was he?

Bobby showed up then; he'd watched most of this exchange from just out of earshot. It had been obvious they were discussing something private and personal that he didn't want or need to hear. So he'd waited patiently until Alyx had turned away and climbed into the van, leaving Fawkes alone. Something was up between them, but now was not the time to stick his nose in. Things were still too precarious where Fawkes was concerned and he didn't want Fawkes diving back under that blanket of depression he'd just barely crawled out from.

"You guys ready?"

"Just about, Bobby. Need to get Darien secure, then we can bail." Alyx said as she came into the doorway. "Ready, Darien?"

"Uh, I guess so." Darien had no idea what she was talking about. He'd planned on getting out of the chair to get into the van. Alyx had other ideas. Using her mind, she lifted him, chair and all, into the van where she quickly went about locking the wheels and securing the chair itself in place.

Alyx slid the door shut as Bobby climbed into the driver's seat. "You okay back there, buddy?"

"Good enough, Hobbes. Lets get some lunch." He looked at Alyx, who sat in the passenger seat and never even looked back at him. "And some fresh air."


	7. Chapter 7

Part VII

Bobby had actually chosen a surprisingly decent place to eat. It was a hole-in-the-wall, mom-and-pop place whose menu changed daily depending on what they'd bought that day. Seafood was, of course, a staple around here, and that was the majority of the menu. They'd placed their order, and then snagged a table that overlooked the harbor and the naval base across the way. They were within walking distance of the Maritime Museum and cruise ship dock -- in fact one of the boats was docked there now -- which explained why Bobby had mentioned getting some work done as well.

Darien wasn't looking all that thrilled to be back near the location where he'd been hurt, but made no mention of it. When their orders were brought over, Darien shook his head in dismay at Bobby. "Hobbes, you drag us to this place, ninety percent of the menu is fish in one form or another, and you order a burger?"

Bobby shrugged. "They do good burgers."

Darien turned back to his fish and chips, that fish being a decent cut of tuna, and tried to recapture the desire to eat. His appetite had fled thanks to the location, as well as his 'talk' with Alyx. Picking up a fry, he dunked it into the ketchup he'd poured in one corner of the basket. Claire had nagged him about eating, saying he had to keep his strength up to get better. So he stuck the fry in his mouth and looked out over the water as he chewed.

Alyx had ordered a huge bucket of mussels and steamed clams. She was methodically tearing the poor creatures open, ripping out their bodies, dunking them in butter, and then swallowing them down. She looked like she was enjoying the whole thing. She paused and took a long drink of her soda. "Great place, Bobby. I'll have to come back here when the geoducks are in season."

Both guys stared at her.

"What?" she asked as she dunked another victim before it followed the rest of its brethren. "Tell me you guys have heard of geoducks?"

"Umm, yeah kid, we have. We're just surprised you have." Bobby shook his head. "Settling right in, ain't you?"

"About time, don't you think, Hobbes? It's been almost two years since she joined us." That sudden realization sank in after a moment. "Wow, doesn't seem that long, does it?"

"That's 'cause I'm gone half the time, and the other half we're too busy trying not to get killed to think about it." She gestured with her fork. "We don't get much free time to think about stuff like that. And it's not really something I want to remember. When there's a good reason to celebrate, I do."

Bobby nodded. The only reason he remembered the date he was hired was because of that damn annual review he had to suffer through, only to be told that there were, once again, not enough funds to give him more than a bare minimum raise that didn't even cover the cost of living adjustments. Birthdays and holidays were usually celebrated quietly and privately. Quite often there wasn't time for more. And of course they all had dates that they wished they could avoid and forget. "Hurry up, you two. We still have work to do."

A little while later, they were standing in front of the Jack in the Box that had captured the first in the series of shots of the Humvee they suspected was driven by their shooter. Bobby was mumbling to himself and staring off into the distance, while Alyx paced slowly down the street away from the two men, heading towards the area where they knew the shooting had to have happened.

"Kid, about another ten yards," Bobby called out to her. He'd approximated how far the guy could have traveled between making the shot and being in the picture at the fast food place. They'd had to approximate the time for the shooting, as well. Neither Bobby nor Darien had thought to look at their watches when it happened; there had been far more pressing concerns on their minds at the time.

*_It's a parking lot Bobby_.* Alyx suddenly said in their heads -- not wanting to yell to be heard, at a guess.

*_On our way_.* Bobby gave Darien a pat on the shoulder, and the two of them moved off to join Alyx. He was hoping for one of the better parking lots that had some security measures, but was disappointed. The thing was abandoned, the chain link fence ripped apart in places, even though the chain holding the gate shut was brand new. A good bet he knew when it had gotten replaced. It also was sloped up about three feet higher than the road. "Check it out, kid."

Moving to the gate, she looked at the lock and then simply shoved one side of the gate and eeled her way inside. Darien shook his head; he'd expected her to break either the lock or the chain and just open the gate, even if it was a bit unnecessary. She wandered around, looking back towards where the boat could easily be seen between two buildings on the land dividing the two roads. It took her a couple minutes, but she found what had to be at least close to the spot the shooter sat at. Focusing on the ground, she began to search for anything that might give them a clue as to who had done this, though she knew success wasn't likely. It had been nearly a week since it had happened and the likelihood that she was the first person to walk through here since then was slim to none.

"Kid, any luck?" Bobby wasn't very hopeful, either. The ground was cracked concrete, with a scattering of sand, glass and other debris. Nothing to hold tire tracks, and the hope that maybe the shell casing was still sitting there was faint at best.

"Define luck. Name your cigarette or condom brand and I think I've found it." She turned back to them. "It's a forensic nightmare in here. Candy, gum, garbage from every fast food place in town. Nothing useful like a shell casing." She headed back to them and slithered back through the gate. She sat on the low wall that separated the lot from the sidewalk.

"Didn't really expect to." Bobby had been hoping for some sort of security, either here or nearby, that might have gotten a picture for them, but unless one of the skyscrapers happened to get a shot out of one of the windows, it wasn't likely.

"Then why are we here?" Darien failed to keep the discomfort out of his voice. He understood the need to find the shooter, to find who had done this, but being here was the last thing he wanted, and the lunch he had forced himself to eat was now debating making a return appearance.

"Hoping for a break, Fawkes, but apparently we've used up our quota for the day." Bobby kicked a stray rock and watched it bounce down the sidewalk till it fetched up against the grassy edge.

"We collected videos six hours before and after, right?" Alyx asked, and Bobby nodded. "If necessary, we could go back further, maybe get a shot of him arriving."

"Nah. No point right now. I'm thinking we should head back to the office and check out that other angle you came up with. I haven't had a chance to look at the info you sent me yet." He shrugged. "Maybe there will be something there, 'cause we're at a dead end right now."

"Part of me really wants that stray thought to be wrong." Alyx got to her feet and walked towards the corner so that they could cross the street.

Darien ran into the back of her legs, gently, to get her attention while they waited for the light to change. When she turned to look at him, he asked, "What stray thought would that be?"

"Oh, that they set you up to get at me." She gave him a wry smile and moved to stand beside him.

"And where did that come from?" Darien asked as he got the chair rolling across the street.

"She had one of her hunches, and I thought we should check it out," Bobby filled in. Both of them knew her hunches had this unholy tendency to be accurate.

"Well, in that case I hope she's wrong as well," Darien said as he manhandled his way up the next sidewalk.

"You and me both, my friend," Bobby agreed, as the person in question smiled and shook her head at them.

"Me, wrong?" She tipped her head as if listening to something. "Wait... is that hell freezing over I hear?"

"Not unless the Fat Man reassigned the walking glacier there," Darien muttered, causing both Alyx and Bobby to start laughing.

"Oh, Fawkes, that was perfect," Bobby got out as he got control back. "Have to remember that one."

The three of them sat Alyx's desk as she accessed the search information she'd downloaded when she'd stopped by her apartment two nights ago. As the computer began displaying the information, she explained. "Okay, what I did was have the search look for any agencies that had been turned down more than twice in the last six months. Then I ran a secondary sequence to narrow the field by having it look for repeat requests. Once that was done, I had it compare the results to the list of those who have access Dubrimium." She turned to look at Darien. "Hopefully, it will narrow the list."

It was only a few seconds later when the computer displayed the final results. There weren't many. Just four who fit the profile. The DOD was one -- not a big surprise, considering the report Alyx had turned up. Second was the CIA, who had their fingers in lots of pies and who got turned down unless it was Duke Montgomery asking for Alyx's help. She refused to work for anyone else after the stunts they had pulled in the past. The NSA, for whom she'd just completed a job that was a near total waste of time and definitely didn't need her talents, was the third possibility. The last one she didn't recognize.

"What is the SWRB?"

"The who?" Bobby asked, hoping he hadn't heard her correctly.

"The SWRB," Darien answered. The acronym sounded familiar for some reason. "What did they want you for?"

"Let's find out, shall we?" Alyx typed a few keys, and a long list of requests scrolled up. They were all identical. "It goes back about five months. They want me for 'intelligence gathering', but they provided no details, even when asked."

"Who's been turning them down?" Bobby was not liking where this was going. If these guys were who he thought they were, then this was damn serious, especially if the Chief had been turning them down.

Alyx typed a few more keys, while Darien eyed Bobby. He knew that tone of voice; Bobby was onto something, and it wasn't anything even vaguely resembling good.

"Ummm, the 'Fish, but with backing from above more recently." Alyx looked at Bobby. "The guys upstairs don't want me anywhere near them for some reason."

"Kid, you want no part of these guys," Bobby said in a low voice. The boss was not going to like the fact that she even knew about them.

"SWRB, why the hell does that sound so familiar?" Darien asked aloud.

Alyx closed her eyes for a few minutes, obviously thinking. "Oh yeah, Secret Weapons Research Branch. Kevin worked for them when he was just starting out. They worked on the quicksilver research back in the early nineties. He worked there a few years, and then left to work for the Agency."

"What?" both men said at once.

"It's not really news; it's right there in both Kevin's file and in the background info on the Quicksilver Project. I'm not sure why he left, but I do believe that the trials at the SWRB were all failures. A different direction of research, I think," Alyx said as she skimmed through the information she had, limited as it was.

Bobby could understand Darien's surprise; he hadn't known much about Kevin's life once they went their separate ways. Darien had just begun to get to know him -- and like him -- when he'd been killed protecting Darien at the Lab. He still had trouble dealing with Kevin's loss, and Bobby could still find him sitting at Kevin's grave when he'd had a bad day, or week. "Kid..."

"Guess that explains their interest in Darien, but not what they need me for." Alyx pulled up another window, made sure her Internet connection was active, and began searching.

"Kid, what are you doing?" Bobby kept his voice steady, hoping like hell she wasn't doing what he thought she was.

"Hmmm? Oh, going to the source, of course. I want some more info on these guys." Alyx was already focusing on the work she planned on doing and was obviously not getting the subtle hints he was dropping her. She was even having some success, using her clearance to go into a government database that actually listed them. From there she was somehow able to get access to a local office of theirs.

"Kid, maybe you shouldn't be doing this," Bobby warned, but she ignored him, too intent on her goal to listen. He looked over at Fawkes, who was looking right back. He'd figured out that this might be bad, but both of them knew Alyx could be very tenacious when she was on to something, and she was twice as stubborn as Fawkes was at times.

"Oooh, good security, but it can't beat me." Darien wanted to stop her, but moved too slow. She closed her eyes and was gone, obviously dealing with the security on a more direct level. They were able to watch the screen flicker and change as she managed to gain access further and further into the system.

She'd been in about five minutes when the Official barreled into the room, took one look at the situation and proceeded to yank the Internet cable out of the wall. Bobby had seen the look of black anger on the Official's face and set a hand on Alyx's left shoulder. He wasn't quite fast enough; Alyx's entire body jerked backwards into her chair at the shock of coming back to herself so fast.

"Ah, hell. You okay kid?" Bobby glared at the Official even as he tried to help her sit up. "What the hell was that for? You want to kill her?"

"Hobbes, now is not the time." The Official sounded both angry and frightened, which got both Bobby and Darien's attention.

Alyx moaned. "Ah, gods I think I'm gonna be sick." She slouched down in the chair, one of her hands to her forehead, gulping in air.

"Miss Silver, I'm not sure what you were doing, but stay away from the SWRB." The Official didn't yell, but the force was there.

"Boss, you might want to chew her out later." Darien had moved closer to her and set a hand over her arm. He knew how awful these headaches could be, and this one was looking to be a doozie.

"Damn it. They might be the ones who shot Darien and you want me to back off?" Alyx somehow managed to sound angry instead of miserable.

"Yes. I'm on a fraying rope with these people and want no part of it breaking." He paused to calm down. "I'm ordering you to leave the SWRB alone. You can follow other leads on the shooter, but leave this one alone."

Alyx glared up at him.

"Miss Silver, I mean this: stay away from them." The Official's look didn't change; he was very serious.

"She -- we -- will, Chief. We have other leads we can work on." Bobby didn't like the fact that there was someone out there who scared the Official. He was going to have to do a little digging into this group, beyond the rumors he'd heard over the years.

"I'm going to hold you to that, Hobbes. It'll be your ass I go after she does anything else to draw their attention." With one last warning look at Alyx, he turned and left the office.

"Bobby, get Claire up here, now," Darien said quietly. Alyx had practically collapsed as soon as the door shut.

"On it." Bobby picked up the phone, and moments later were filling Claire in on the situation.

"Alyx, how bad?" Darien tried to help her sit up a bit more in the chair, but wasn't very successful.

"Ummm, bad enough?" She shook her head and blinked in discomfort. "Uh, why'd he do that?"

Bobby set the handset back in the cradle. "Kid, I tried to warn you. These guys, the SWRB, have a rep for being ruthless and above most of the rules. You may think the Fat Man gets away with a lot, but these guys wrote the book." He moved around her desk and sat in one of the chairs. "They have funding and power. No one, and I mean no one, messes with them. Usually."

"Wait a minute, if they have that much pull, fear, whatever, how is it they haven't gotten hold of Alyx?" Darien was gently massaging the palm of Alyx's hand. He'd picked up a book on reflexology, and they'd found that it sometimes helped to ease her nastier headaches.

Bobby shook his head. "No idea, but like the kid said, someone higher up on the food chain doesn't want her near them. I'm thinking we should maybe keep it that way."

Given the reaction of the Official, Darien had to agree, in principle anyway. "Bobby, if they set this up..." He trailed off, knowing Bobby could fill in the rest.

"Yeah, but these aren't the type you try and get even with. Arnaud, Stark, Lawson -- those are the get-even-with types. These guys..." Bobby leaned forward. "These guys are dangerous, and that's Bobby Hobbes making that statement."

"And we all know Bobby Hobbes is God," Alyx said, her voice slightly slurred.

"Don't you forget it, kid." He got to his feet and stuck his head out the door, looking for Claire. "You gonna survive?"

"If he does that again, shoot one of us, please?" Alyx moaned as she leaned forward to hang her head between her knees. "Me, by preference." Her voice was muffled, but Bobby still heard her.

"Here's the Keep, kid." Bobby moved out of the way as Claire bustled in, her hands full of anything she might need. She began giving directions even as she set the items on the desk.

"Bobby, set up the bed." Claire circled around the desk and turned the chair Alyx was in, to gain better access to her. "Up you go," she said as she helped Alyx get upright. With a few quick questions and a quick exam, Claire got the information she needed.

"Keepy?" Bobby didn't want the kid hurt; they still had work to do.

"She'll be okay. I'll give her a painkiller, and she needs to rest for a few hours, but she'll be fine." Claire urged Alyx to her feet and over to the bed. Bobby had gotten everything ready, including the pillows and the blanket she kept in the storage beneath the oversized futon. Once she was horizontal, Claire slid up her sleeve, disinfected the area with an alcohol wipe, and injected the painkiller.

"Bobby, trace who sent the orders through F&G for that mission, and do the same for my NSA job." Alyx looked up at him, her eyes glassy with pain and medication.

"Kid?" Bobby wasn't sure of the point. Orders from F&G were from F&G.

"Setup, Bobby. F&G might have been.... persuaded to send you guys there." The drug was definitely kicking in, and she was swiftly losing the fight to stay conscious.

"Good point, I'll check it out. You get some rest. I expect you to be up and moving by dinner, you hear me?" Bobby kept his tone light, and was rewarded with a drug-fuzzed smile from her.

"As you wish, boss." Her eyes drifted shut, and Claire checked her pulse just to be sure. Sometimes, even with the medications they knew worked, she reacted oddly.

"I'm going to have to explain to the Official, again, why he can't do things like that, whatever the provocation." Claire was pretty irritated, from the looks of it, but better her chewing out the Official than one of them. He might listen to her.

"I'll stay with her for a bit, okay?" Darien looked at Claire, her hands once again full.

"Sure, just make sure she rests." She made her way out the door and presumably back to the Keep before heading to chew off a piece of the Official's ass.

"Fawkes, I'll be in my office." He glanced from one to the other. The kid looked completely out of it, but he could still see the pain lines etched around her mouth and eyes. "Don't start blaming yourself or nothing."

Darien shook his head with a grim look. "Bobby, what if they are after her and want me out of the way? Kevin worked for them...." He stopped, shaking his head, not quite sure where he was going with this.

"Fawkes, the two might not even be connected. We'll work what we have and go from there." Bobby tried to sound hopeful and confident, but he had the bad feeling that there was a connection. When they found out exactly what, he was sure no one was going to be very happy about it. Darien shrugged, his enthusiasm obvious, and Bobby closed the door quietly and headed for his office. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. Damn if he wasn't sure someone was watching him right now. What really bothered him was, given what he did know about the SWRB, there might very well be.

By the time he got to his office, he was fighting the urge to shudder. After debating for a moment, he pulled out his bottle of pills and dry-swallowed one. Now was not the time for his paranoia to run rampant; now he needed to follow up on the kid's suggestion. Turning on his computer, he thanked the silicon gods for making it almost mandatory that every scrap of information be put into the belly of the electronic beast, as well as getting filed on paper in triplicate and buried either in the row of file cabinets in the Official's office, or down in the Archives.

He began with the F&G orders that started this whole mess. He and Fawkes been called in late Saturday afternoon and told where to be, when, and what they were supposed to do. It seemed simple enough -- it should have been simple enough -- but instead they'd walked dead-on into a trap. It happened on occasion, but not usually with F&G jobs. Bobby punched keys and clicked the mouse, only to find... nothing. No orders from F&G. No messages back and forth from the Official to his counterpart at F&G. Even the report he'd written up on the incident with shaking hands was gone. Like it had never existed.

Okay, something weird was going on. Getting up, he walked to his lone filing cabinet, unlocked it, and slid open the drawer. Past the files that contained assorted versions of his resignation and his copies of complaints and requests, there was the one from the cruise ship dock incident. Or there should have been. The file was gone.

He slid the drawer shut and took a moment to think. Something was rotten in Denmark, and it wasn't the food -- or not just the food -- this time. Returning to his desk, he accessed the NSA request for Alyx. He had to use one of her passwords to do it, but he got in. She'd told him a little about the job, and he had to agree with her assessment that she'd been completely unnecessary. She had been used to meet a NSA operative that was deep undercover and retrieve a vital bit of information. Or so she'd been told. After waiting around for nearly a week, with constant delays on both ends, she finally met the guy in a park in Vancouver, pulled the five word sentence that was so desperately needed from his mind, and then walked away to turn over the information to his superiors. Alyx said she hadn't even needed to go invisible, just sat in the park drinking coffee till he showed. She'd flown home the next day, wondering why the hell she'd gone.

Well, at least the records still existed for this one, but sending her on such a stupid mission just screamed suspicious to him. Picking up his phone, he dialed one of his many contacts. It took six phone calls and thirty minutes before he really got anything, and what he did get didn't help much or make him feel any more confident about the situation. A 'friend' over at the Pentagon had told him,, to 'leave it alone.'

Well there was no way that was going to happen, not when it concerned both Fawkes and the kid. Getting to his feet, he decided maybe it was time to confront the Official.

He was rather surprised not to see Ms. Pritchard anywhere. There was an agent in the room shuffling paper. He'd seen the guy around, but didn't immediately recognize him.

"Hobbes, what do you want now?" The Official sounded pissed off.

"What happened to my report about the shooting? It's not in the computer, and the copy in my personal file is gone. I'm betting that if I checked the Archives, it would be missing from there as well." Bobby didn't bother beating around the bush. He wanted to know what was going on, and now.

The Official glanced at the agent and then back at Hobbes. "Smith, go see if those enhancements Agent Hobbes requested are ready."

The man set down the papers he was holding, said, "Yes, sir," and left the room.

"Hobbes, the matter is to be forgotten. Completely." He removed his glasses and rubbed his forehead.

"So F&G was ordered to set us up." Bobby sank into a chair with a feeling of disbelief.

"Encouraged would be a better choice, but yes. And no, I did not know about it until after." That hint of fear was back in the Official's voice.

"They tried to kill Fawkes," Bobby nearly snarled. "We know about the connection to Kevin, we know they want the kid for some job, we know the kid's NSA job was to get her out of the way while Fawkes was taken out of the game. The question is, why?"

"Hobbes, drop it. Fawkes is fine, or will be with some work. Miss Silver is safe for now." The Official reasserted himself, nearly barking out the words.

"For now? What the hell does that mean?" Bobby asked, his voice rising along with the Official's.

"Hobbes, drop it." When Bobby opened his mouth to say something, the Official interrupted. "One word and I'll suspend you without pay for two weeks." He stood and leaned forward, his hands on the desk. "Try me."

Bobby shut his mouth and got to his feet as well. "I'm not going to let you play fast and loose with my partners' lives, Fat Man."

"Hobbes, drop this, or more than just their lives will be in danger." He lowered his voice. "Miss Silver has children, remember?"

That made Bobby's blood run cold. "Shit."

"Exactly. So far, they're safe, but between the group her husband worked for, the CIA, and now the SWRB, it is getting more difficult to keep them out of the game. Follow the leads to the shooter. Leave the SWRB alone." The Official sat back down a bit heavily. He was a bit out of practice with juggling such volatile elements, and it might yet get worse before this situation resolved itself.

"Chief, they may be one and the same," Hobbes reiterated, but could see the Official was adamant that they forget the SWRB angle.

"Hobbes..." he warned.

"I want it on the record that I'm doing this under protest.," Bobby snapped, not entirely sure what else to do. It was a good bet that if he continued, he would receive more than an unexpected unpaid vacation, and he didn't want to be tailed all over town just to verify he was behaving. Being followed made him nervous.

Smith came back in then with a file folder. "Agent Hobbes, here are the hard copies of the enhancements. They are also in the computer system if you wish to try and tweak them on your own." The man handed the file to Hobbes and then moved back to the stack of papers he'd been shuffling before.

"Where's Ms. Pritchard?" Bobby asked out of curiosity as he moved to the door.

"Reassigned. Smith is her temporary replacement. Try to get along with him." The Official was hard-pressed to hide a smile.

Bobby failed completely. He was glad Ms. Permafrost was gone. "Thanks, Smith," Bobby said as he walked out of the room. Instead of his office, he headed back to Alyx's, figuring Fawkes might want to help out with this. He found Alyx still sound asleep and Fawkes sitting at her desk, working on her laptop.

Darien was reading over the files Alyx had mentioned, about Kevin's involvement with the SWRB and some guy named Augustin Gaither. Kevin had worked for them for years, through all the preliminary testing and development stages. Yet when the final gland work began, he was working for the Agency instead. What the hell had happened?

"Fawkes, everything okay?" Bobby asked, setting a hand on Fawkes back.

"Hmmm? Oh, yeah. Just learning more about my family that I didn't know. Not sure I want to know, either." He watched as Bobby sat down in Alyx's chair and leaned back, making himself comfortable. "You find anything?"

"Both more and less than we wanted to know." He opened the file and thumbed through the pictures. They were astonishingly clear, given the crappy video they'd had to begin with and the inevitable loss of resolution when blowing them up. They had at least two views of the license plate number and, much to his surprise, a pic of the driver. He shook his head. That wasn't possible. To get a shot of the driver the camera would have to have been across the street, or from somewhere else entirely. And this shot was almost directly from the front.

Looking over at the piles of videotapes, he saw one buried at the bottom of the pile he was sure he didn't recognize. It was marked as coming from the DOT. Sliding it into one of the machines, he watched the tape play out in real time. It was one of those highway surveillance cameras used to catch red-light runners and monitor some of the worse intersections in the city. This one was up the street from the shooting location, at the cross street -- Laurel Street, he thought it was -- that led over to Lindbergh Field.

They hadn't collected this tape.

"Hobbes, what's going on?" Darien had rolled over beside him, glad he'd missed the joys of watching hours of traffic drive by.

"We're being tossed a bone." Hobbes stopped the video when the black Humvee they suspected as belonging to the shooter came into camera view, with a perfectly clear shot of the driver. "They're trying to buy us off."

"Hobbes, could you translate?" Darien didn't want to sound like a fool, but he did want to know what was going on.

"Look, we're pretty sure the SWRB was involved with this, up to their necks, so they're giving us a scapegoat so that we'll back off." He ejected the tape and set it down with the file. "I'm willing to bet this wasn't even recorded that morning, and they just played with the time code to make it look legit."

"So they screwed up, we caught on, and they're sacrificing a pawn, who might not even be the real shooter, just to get us to back off? Are they nuts?" Darien didn't like being used by the Official; he sure as hell wasn't going to put up with it from someone else. "What do we do?"

"There isn't much we can do. The Official has told us to leave the SWRB alone. My contacts have said to stay out of it. And I know they are not very nice people. They tend to eliminate their 'problems' by reducing them to their component parts." Bobby sounded angry more than anything else. He didn't like being told to back off, no matter what, or who, the reason. "I'll work this. It might even be worth the effort." He got to his feet and headed for the door. "Give me holler if you need anything. Oh, by the way, she's gone."

"Huh? Who?" Darien spun the chair to see Bobby grinning.

"Ms. Freeze has been reassigned. Some mook named Smith is her stand-in for now." Bobby was pleased to see the smile on Darien's face. They were so very rare these days.

"Well, at least one thing has gone right today." Darien rolled over to the bed and set a hand on Alyx's shoulder.

"Fawkes..." Bobby shook his head. "Never mind. I'll check back in later."

"Sure, Bobby." Darien turned his focus to Alyx.


	8. Chapter 8

Part VIII

Darien rolled out of his bathroom and into the kitchen, where Alyx was preparing dinner. A bit awkwardly, he got the door to his fridge open and pulled out a bottle of beer. She'd been quiet ever since she'd woken up, and no matter what Darien had tried he'd been unable to draw her out of the mood she'd fallen into. Noticing the amount of food she was cooking, he chose to speak up.

"Aren't you eating?"

She made a face, and actually turned a shade of green similar to that of the jeans she was wearing. "Ah, no. You know my headaches make me nauseous." She took a deep breath, got herself back in control, and finished what she was doing. Then she turned to him, still looking pale, but no longer like she was going to need to make a mad dash to the bathroom.

"Right, sorry. We could have gone to your place." Darien hated this. Normally he wouldn't have forgotten something like that. Normally it would be him cooking for her, maybe some soup, while she rested and tried to ease the headache without having to resort to more painkillers. Instead, she was on her feet, waiting on him for all intents and purposes, and she shouldn't be. "Alyx...."

She shook her head. "You need to get out of that chair for a while. Your back must be getting stiff as sin."

She tried to slip past him, but he reached out and wrapped his fingers about her forearm, stopping her. "Alyx, you don't have to wait on me. I could've ordered something, or asked Bobby to help, or... or called someone else." His hold was light enough that she could have easily broken away, but much to his relief she didn't. He set the bottle down on the rolling butcher-block table and slid his hand up her arm, causing her to shiver slightly.

"I don't mind, really." A smile just barely upon her lips. "Sofa or bed?"

That threw him completely. "Huh? What?" He was sure he'd missed something along the way. There was no way she could be suggesting what he thought she was suggesting. Could she?

"Please tell me Claire talked to you about sitting in one position for too long and stretching and such?" She sounded tired and exasperated. She'd sounded like that a lot over the last few days.

"Oh. Yeah, she did." Darien let go of her arm and backed out of the kitchen with her following. "Ummm, sofa I guess. I might watch some TV or something." She'd grabbed the beer and set it on the small end table, along with the remotes for the assorted pieces of electronics. With her hands behind her back, she waited while Darien worked out how and then shifted himself from the chair to the sofa for himself. When he was reasonably comfortable, in a lazy sprawl supported by cushions, Alyx sat on the floor next to him.

"I won't be staying tonight," she said softly.

Darien's heart jumped at the words. He knew she was upset about a number of things, but he'd thought she, of everyone, would stay to help. He didn't really want to be alone, he realized. He somehow knew he was still too close to that edge and needed someone nearby, just in case. "Why?" he got out, past the tightness in his chest that threatened to cut off voice.

"Well, I would like to do some laundry. Can't wear this forever, no matter how wonderful it looks." She gestured to her current ensemble and he had to admit she was right. "And, I need to be alone for a while."

She needed to be alone? But what about him? He needed her to be here. To give him something to focus on besides his current state. To... He stopped himself. When had he gone from wanting to keep her away from him and this situation, to wanting her to fix it all? To thinking she was the only way to get through this? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he felt light fingers brushing across his cheek, he opened them to see her kneeling beside him. It was difficult, but he said, "I understand. I.... I'll manage."

"You'll be fine, and I'm not leaving just yet. I want some company first." She leaned in and kissed him lightly, much as he had her the night before.

This time, he was the one to shiver. He pushed himself more upright as her hand settled to rest on his shoulder. She moved to perch on the edge of the sofa and allowed him to pull her closer. This time, this kiss, was filled with a desperate longing, with a need to connect with something familiar, to touch something that was unchanged. There was also the inevitable element of desire that grew over the passing minutes, until Darien forced himself to pull away, his expression a combination of need and self-loathing. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

She pulled away from him, laughing harshly. "You're sorry. Shit Darien, did I seem the least bit unwilling or put off? Do you really think I'm that superficial?" She got to her feet and backed away, her look gone blank.

Darien didn't know what to say, what to do to close this ever-widening gulf between them.

She held up her right hand. "You put this back on my finger. I know what it means to me, what it represents for me. You...." She paused, taking a moment to keep herself in control. "I can't be the one to hold you together. I can't fix this for you. No matter how much I may want to." She trailed off, her voice shaky as her emotional state broke through.

Darien wanted to get up and hold her, and therein lay the problem. He couldn't. He had avoided thinking, perhaps a bit selfishly, about how this might be affecting her. "Alyx, I..." He was interrupted by the kitchen timer going off. Alyx held in place for a moment as the obnoxious beeping filled the apartment, her eyes locked on his. When she broke contact and moved, he wished he could follow her, could say the one word that would hold her in place. To hell with dinner, let it burn if that's what it took -- but he found his tongue-tied, his throat tight, and his mind blank. Unable to put even two words together. Picking up the bottle of beer, he twisted off the top and hurriedly downed half of it, wanting the effects of the alcohol to dull the edges of reality and make it stop hurting.

He stared at the blank television screen, not quite willing to expend the energy needed to pick up the remote and press the button. He looked down at his wrists: one bandaged, a reminder of how low he truly could fall, and the other bearing the tattoo, a reminder of how drastically his life had changed in the last few years. For better or worse? He still wasn't sure on some days. It was half-red already, which meant that Claire had not given him the inhibitor recently; he'd have to endure the trials of weekly shots again. He debated, once again, his decision to stay with the Agency, only this time he found himself regretting his decision and a bit resentful of the reasons that had kept him here.

He lifted his head to look at Alyx, standing before him with a food-laden tray, and for the first time he felt resentment towards her for keeping him here. For making him care so damn much that he'd preferred to stay here facing danger and addiction rather than trying to make a life on his own, free from the fears and pain, safe from the terrible things he could and would do when conditions were right, and even, occasionally, when they weren't.

She set the tray down before him and stepped back, almost as if she knew what he'd been thinking. "Thanks," he mumbled, afraid to say anything more right now.

"Sure," she said quietly and then left him in peace to continue on in his downward spiral of dark thoughts, and animosity.

He ate slowly and methodically, not really tasting any of it. Some faraway part of him regretted that, knowing that it was probably another one of her culinary masterpieces, but he couldn't seem bring himself back far enough to really care. When he'd eaten all he could, he lifted the tray and attempted to set it on the floor. Suddenly, his legs flared into agony again; it had happened on and off all day, and he never knew when it would occur or how long it would last. This one was about average for pain, but he still dropped the tray the last few inches, causing the items on it to rattle and then slip off, crashing to the floor.

Darien bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, even as he forced himself to try and relax through it, as Claire had suggested. From somewhere behind him came the crash of pans falling to the floor, reminiscent of yesterday evening when Alyx apparently broke the glass. As it finally passed, he was able to sit back up and reposition himself on the sofa so that he could look over at the kitchen. "Alyx?"

"Later, please?" She suddenly reminded him of Ms. Pritchard by her tone of voice. Cold and distant. As he watched, she cleaned up whatever mess she'd made out there and then came out and cleaned up the small mess he'd made. He tried to get her attention, but she refused to meet his eyes. With a sigh, he shifted until he was on his side, with a new bottle of beer on the floor in easy reach and the remote in his hand surfing through the channels. He finally settled on some sporting event he didn't really care about, but which was not overly annoying as background noise.

When Alyx finished up, she stood near his feet, waiting until he focused on her. "Anything you need me to do before I go? Get clothes out or the like? I've put the goodies you like down in easy reach and moved some basics to where..." She trailed off as Darien just stared at her. "I wish I knew what to do for you, Darien." She shifted back and forth for a moment and then, making her decision, came to stand before him. "I know you're unhappy about the situation, but why are you mad at me?"

Darien hid his reaction to her words. Was he angry with her? Right now he didn't know the answer to that. He set down the remote and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not. Angry with you, that is. Unhappy, well, yeah. Shouldn't I be? Being a constant target isn't the most fun thing in the world."

"True. Neither is being a lab rat, yet here you are." She raised one hand to pinch the bridge of her nose reminding Darien that she was still dealing with the leftovers of her headache. "Either you want me to be with you or you don't. I can't keep being pushed away by you, not now. We used to go through stuff like this together."

Stuff like this? When had they ever been in a situation like this before? But she did have a point; he was pushing her away, and a perverse part of him saw it as a bit of justice for all he had been through. For pushing him away for months, for running off to Arnaud -- not once, but twice -- for letting him think she was dead, for being just like every other woman in his life.

He tried to shove those thoughts, those feelings, into the furthest corner of his mind and shut them back in their dark little corner where, hopefully, they'd be forgotten and never see the light of day. She just stood there, shaking, during the few seconds all this ran through his mind. "I want you with me, Alyx, but, right now I... I guess I have trouble believing that you want to be here."

"No, you simply have trouble believing me. I just wish I knew why." She moved away. "If you have problems, both Grady and Loman are aware of the situation and can help. The numbers are by the phone. Claire said she'd check on you later."

Darien sat up in surprise. "You're leaving?"

"Yes, I have things to do and... and I need to be away from you for a while." She picked up her jacket and draped it over one arm. "I'll see you in the morning."

Once again, he found himself unable to speak, unable to utter a single phrase, unable to say even her name, and so he watched silently as she turned her back on him and walked out the door with her shoulders slumped and head bowed. The door shut with a quiet click.

"Damn," he snarled into the now-empty room. "Just like all the rest." That unplanned comment stunned him, holding him in place until the need to breathe forced him to gasp and suck in a long breath. He vaguely remembered his drunken nightmares from those first few days after Eberts had shot her and he'd thought her dead, dreams of every female of significance in his life, beginning with his mother and going from there.

They had all left him eventually, for one reason or another -- some at the hands of others, stolen away from him, some simply due to the whims of fate, life offering opportunities that necessitated leaving him behind. Some he knew he had chased away with his lies and deceptions. Casey was a prime example of that, and she hadn't been the first; he hadn't been all that surprised when she didn't stick around even after promising to help him. More recently had been Allianora, once again taken away by the hands of others. And of course there was Jessica. He'd found a friend in a young, frightened girl for a couple of days, but in the end she had to put her toy -- her invisible playmate -- away, to be forgotten as the months went by, as she grew past the need of childish friends and found new ones.

It was as inevitable as breathing that any woman he cared about would leave him. Hadn't history proven that time and time again?

Alyx would leave him as well. That was his fear -- that he would have stayed for nothing, that in the coming weeks or months she would become more and more distant, or perhaps be stolen away for real this time and not just to protect herself and others. At the cabin, when his stunned mind had barely absorbed that fact she was really alive, Alyx had said she'd never let that happen. She had even gone so far as to promise, just a few days later, that she was his for as long as he wanted her. But even then, some small part of him hadn't believed her, had taken her words as an appeasement to keep him happy for the time being, as a way to get him past the hurt he was still feeling at having to suffer through her death.

Darien suddenly realized she was right. He had been closing himself off from her, to protect himself from what he saw as inevitable, from the hurt he was convinced would happen, the pain of losing yet another person he cared about. She'd taught him more than enough about his mind and her abilities to block her, even if he didn't fully understand how he was doing it. It had begun up in Cold Springs, and though he had denied it, even to himself, it had gotten worse since he decided to stay. He hadn't told her why he decided to stay, never would, and she hadn't asked. That bothered him for some reason. Wasn't she curious at all? Did she really care, or had he become a convenience for her? Like Claire had once accused him of using Alyx as.

Shifting, he picked up the beer and took a long, slow swallow. If that were true, then everything he'd ever felt from her would have to be a lie, would have to have been manufactured emotions, would have to been a better con than even he could imagine. For her to fake all of that for all those months -- helping to create the inhibitor, driving forward the research to discover how to remove the gland. Doing what she thought was best to help him even as her own mind fell apart, backing him in his search for Rachel and Jason -- would be a plan even the 'Fish couldn't come up with.

Which meant that it was all real. That she had no intention of walking out on him, even if separated for months due to work. Even when he sank into one of his moods and wanted no part of humanity or the rest of the world. Even when he was being a complete jerk and manufacturing fears because he was convinced that, in the end, she would be like all the others and leave him.

"Ah, hell," he muttered into the swiftly darkening room. Sitting up, he levered himself back into the wheelchair and rolled over to the lamp on the nightstand beside his bed. He turned it on, adding a golden glow to the room and somewhat chasing away the darkness that still lay heavy in his heart and mind. Picking up the phone, he dialed her number, wanting to apologize. After several rings, though, he only got her voice as her answering machine kicked in. He hung up without leaving a message and dialed her cell phone, only to be dumped to her voice mail. Once again he left no message and hung up the phone with a sigh.

Tomorrow would be soon enough, he decided. Tonight he still had things to do, or Claire would be on his ass, and right now he really didn't need Claire any angrier with him that she already was.

***

When Bobby answered his door just after ten PM, he wasn't the least bit surprised at who stood on the far side. He'd been expecting her for over an hour now, and was actually beginning to wonder what was keeping her. She stood there dressed in black, her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. Pain was evident in her eyes and face, but he knew none of that would stop her.

"Are we really going to back off?" she asked in a soft voice.

He waved for her to enter his apartment. She'd only been inside maybe twice before, but now, as then, she didn't take the time to admire the place and got straight to business. She set her laptop on his table and opened it up. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked back at him. "Kid, this isn't a good idea."

"I think this might change your mind." She nodded towards her laptop and he moved over to read what was on the screen.

It took him only a few seconds to realize what this meant. It was no wonder they wanted the kid, and it was also obvious why those upstairs wanted her nowhere near these guys. If they knew what she could really do, they wouldn't let her go. They either valued what they did know about her enough to try this scheme, or they already suspected she was capable of far more than they had confirmed. It was a good thing she, unlike Fawkes, tended to use her flashier abilities only when absolutely necessary. It was looking like they'd been following her movements for months now, especially when she was out of town on a job and out of the umbrella of protection of the Agency.

"Where did you get this, kid?" He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck trying to stand up, but he trusted the kid to have checked for any surprises of the electronic kind as soon as she had walked in the door.

"This is some of what I pulled up earlier. I also got some of what they've been doing with the Dubrimium. They may have screwed up with Darien, but not with other things. They've been using the unique effects it creates to come up with some truly scary stuff." She leaned against the table and stared off into the distance. "They aren't going to stop Bobby, unless we do something. They may leave Darien alone, but they'll keep applying pressure until the Official is forced to 'loan' me to them."

"What do you have in mind?" He continued to scroll through the sometimes-fragmentary information covering a score of topics. A parts list for some unknown weapon, a formula for something that involved the Dubrimium -- the kid was right, it was a stupid name -- a partial dossier on Fawkes, as well as a more complete one on Alyx, though most of that information was sheer speculation. It looked like they'd been monitoring her since that girls' school job several months ago. He wondered what it was she'd done to draw their attention. Fawkes was an obvious target, since he was the recipient of his brother's quicksilver research, of which they had been the previous sponsors. Too bad the kid hadn't grabbed the info on that; it might prove important, or at least interesting.

"I know where one of their local offices is; I was thinking on paying them a visit." Her voice was so bland, Bobby was certain he'd misheard her.

"Kid, you can't be serious." He stood up and looked her in the eye -- yes, she was serious.

"'The art of war is simple enough. Find out where your enemy is. Get at him as soon as you can. Strike him as hard as you can, and keep moving on.' Ulysses S. Grant," Alyx said to him with a grim smile.

"You been hanging around Fawkes too much." When she just shrugged at him, he knew things had gone poorly earlier, but chose to say nothing at the moment. "You're right, though, I don't want to back off." He looked at the information again. "But it's too risky for you. You'd be walking right into the wolves' den, and you are the red riding hood they're after."

"Who else, Bobby? Tell me that. 'Sides, I'll have you watching my back, with a little help." She pressed a few keys and the SWRB files vanished, to be replaced by a program he recognized.

"Your Destiny program? How will that help? These guys will have security like you wouldn't believe; even if we get in, it'll be spotted in a heartbeat." Bobby realized she didn't look the least bit worried, and in fact was smiling slightly.

"That's what I'm hoping."

Bobby wagged a finger at her when he caught on. "Kid... I trained you well." He thought about it for several minutes without Alyx saying anything. She knew he wouldn't be persuaded with slick words or pleas; after long exposure to Fawkes, he was pretty much immune to both of those tactics. He was pretty sure that, even if they got caught, the SWRB wouldn't do anything to them, though the Official might take a large portion out of their hides. He could live with that if it got them something to use against these guys. Besides, he was damn sure the kid would try this on her own if he said 'no'. Better to watch her back. "All right, kid. We'll do this. Give me twenty minutes."

"Thanks, Bobby."

"No need kid. I know you'd do the same for me." And he did. It may have taken time, but he did trust her now, in much the same way he trusted Fawkes. She'd do just about anything for any or all of them. Maybe even absolutely anything. It was just who she was.

***

****

SWRB Research Laboratory III, Mission Valley

He ran the diagnostic a third time, and it finally found the reason the Lab's security had been misbehaving. Picking up the phone, he pressed a single button that would connect him to the Director, wherever he might be. He continued to track the invading control program, as well as the specific security it was altering, to try and figure out where the intruder was going.

When the voice on the other end acknowledged, he spoke calmly. "Sir, we have a security breach. In facility three." He paused, listening. "No sir, not that we've picked up, anyway. Yes, sir." Hanging up the phone, he ignored the worm program and its effects and began searching the various monitors for the person they had to be hiding. Five minutes later, with no success to report other than his conclusion that they were heading for the main computer in sub-basement two, the Director walked in and sat beside him. He felt a flash of unease; the Director was not very forgiving of failure. "The target appears to be the main computer. I've been unable to locate the person or persons."

The older, blonde-haired man looked over the various screens and data. "That's because they aren't going to the computer. The worm program, though quite good, is a distraction and nothing more." Turning to the video monitors, he frowned. "Switch to enhanced thermal imaging."

The security agent tapped a few keys. The images on the screen changed, but revealed nothing new.

"I'm impressed," the Director muttered to himself. "Search for their radio frequency."

More keys were tapped. "None, sir. No outside communications or unauthorized frequencies in the area."

The Director nodded, as if pleased with the answer. "Where's the vehicle?"

Several exterior camera shots were scrolled through. "Here, sir." The image showed a black van, screened by several trees and sitting in a pool of darkness, the streetlight nearby no longer working. They had found it because of the heat signature of its engine showing on one of thermal cameras. "Shall I have them brought in?"

The Director thought for a moment. "No. Unless they disrupt anything in the building, leave them be. I'll deal with them." He got to his feet and left the room, heading back to his office. He had hoped she wouldn't back down, would try something like this. It was another opportunity to find out exactly what she was capable of. He might want her for only one of her talents, but once she was in his possession he was sure to find other uses for her, even if it was only to study. They had been warned, and even the protection of the Official and those backing him only went so far.

Opening the door to his office, he paused, suddenly feeling like he wasn't alone. He looked about with suspicion. Nothing appeared to be out of place. His computer was still off, like he'd left it, and there was no place to hide. The child was a telepath, not invisible like her sometime-partner. Perhaps she could fool the various security measures, but she could still be seen. Moving to his desk, he picked up the phone; it was time to apply some more pressure and to finish setting up the trail to the shooter. He hated to admit to a mistake, but one had been made. He'd had no way of knowing the quicksilver would affect the Dubrimium-laced bullets. The fact that they'd been forced to the secondary plan at all still irked him; capturing Fawkes had turned out to be far more difficult than they had foreseen. He'd actually managed to learn a thing or two while working for the Official. Of course, his Agency counterpart had not been very happy to learn of his attempt -- justifiably -- but it would have been an effective step in his efforts to wrest control of the girl for himself.

Pressing a few keys, he called up what little information he had on her. Her file was still there, with reports from various missions she'd been watched on as they tried to confirm what they suspected about her. They had confirmed that she was a telepath, a fairly strong one at that, and that was the talent he needed right now.

When he got to the final page, he hung up the phone before the connection was completed. There was a new page added to her file, with a note for him. 'Your turn to be watched.'

For an instant, anger burned in him, but it cooled quickly, to be replaced with a smile. She was damn good. Better than he had hoped. Maybe, just maybe, he would still be able to pull this off and end up with the prize. Picking the phone back up, he made a call, different from the one he had originally intended to make. It was time for a slight change in tactics.

***

Bobby backed his way out of the building on the security system, hopefully making it look like they had achieved their goal and were leaving. He was just completing the task when the rear door, which was intentionally out of sight of the many cameras, opened and closed. She shed the quicksilver and moved over to him.

"How'd it go, kid?" He exited the program and shut down the computer before turning to her.

"Cake and pie," she said as she picked up the laptop and slipped it back into her bag.

It took him a second, but he caught on. "Piece of cake." He moved to the driver's seat and started the engine.

"Easy as pie," she added as she leaned over his shoulder. "We're not buying it, are we?"

"Not for an instant." He turned the van about and drove away from the innocent-looking building, which sat in the midst of a small industrial park and next to an upper-middle-class neighborhood. "Your tax dollars at work," he muttered to himself as he looked over the homes. All these people who had no idea what really went on, even though it was practically in their back yards.

"That's what we're for, to protect them from things like this, right?" Alyx had slid into the passenger seat and was looking through the glove box for something. "Sorry, it was kinda obvious what you were thinking."

"No problem, kid. You're right, that's what we do, keep the world safe for Joe Blow and his two point five kids, even if it means protecting them from those who are supposed to be the good guys." His hands tightened on the wheel, the knuckles turning white. He'd made a few calls while waiting for the kid to show at his place, and the answers he'd received, along with what he already knew from both fact and rumor, scared him. These were not nice people, in any way, and they wanted his partners. It made him want to scream in frustration. These people had already proven what lengths they'd go to get what they wanted, as well as proving to Bobby that he couldn't protect them. If the SWRB really came after his friends, no one could stop them. They had no one to answer to, no oversight. Only the combined backing of multiple agencies had kept Alyx out of their hands up to this point. Eventually they would win, unless he found something to use against them, some way to create a stalemate.

"Bobby, we'll get through this. Stop worrying so much." Alyx's voice was soft and filled with concern for him. "Not to nag, or sound like Fawkes, but take your pills, Bobby. Please."

Bobby chuckled and relaxed slightly. They took care of each other. He changed the topic, bringing up something that was probably none of his business. "I saw the ring. Things okay?"

Alyx sighed audibly. "Not really, but I can't do anything about it right now. I want him safe first."

"Kid..." Bobby wasn't sure what to say. He was pretty sure she wouldn't abandon Fawkes just because he was hurt, but it was hard to watch. They were both his friends and he had eventually accepted their relationship as inevitable. Rules or no rules. Somehow, they made it work. But it was hard to support both of them when it looked like they were falling apart.

"Bobby... Don't feel guilty, or that you have to choose sides. I'm not about to abandon him. I'll help all I can, but he has to do most of this himself and you know it." Alyx leaned back into the seat, the fingers of one hand gently rubbing her forehead. "I can't convince him of that, it seems."

"He'll make it, kid. He's tougher than he realizes." Bobby had suspected what had happened yesterday when he saw the bandage on Fawkes' wrist, but he knew better than to make any comment to either Fawkes or Alyx. He somehow knew Alyx hadn't stopped him, that Fawkes had stopped himself even as he made the attempt. He'd been there himself once, with the will, but not the opportunity. Hell, he'd come damn close to that long fall again when he'd thought he'd shot Fawkes, and only the need to save him, to keep his partner alive, had kept him from making a fatal and final mistake.

"I know he is," Alyx said with a quiet, solid conviction. "But even he has his Achilles heel."

"We all do, kid. We just have to make sure not to let the enemy exploit it." They were nearing his apartment building and he pulled next to her car. "We'll trace that plate tomorrow and track down the shooter. For all the good it'll do us."

"Bobby, we take the bone they throw us. And then we throw it back in their faces." Her voice was a soft growl by the end.

"That may not be possible." Bobby had to try and make her aware of the real situation. "This is not our usual enemy. It's not someone we can just arrest and move on."

"There's always a way, Bobby. We just may not like it." She picked up her bag and opened the door. "You'll pick up Darien in the morning?" She slipped out, but held the door open waiting for his answer.

"Yeah, kid. I'll deliver him to the Keep on time. Go home and sleep. I have the feeling we're all going to need it." She shook her head and then shut the door. He waited in place until she had driven away, headed for home. Pulling forward, he drove around the building into the small parking lot, pleased that his space hadn't been swiped for a change. Now he just needed to convince himself to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Part IX

It was the stuttering sound of his own voice saying, "Oh, c... crap," that convinced Darien that he was indeed awake this time and not just in another vivid dream. Shifting carefully, he levered himself into a sitting position. The sheets were tangled about his legs, making it far more difficult than necessary, even given his current condition. Once everything was at least somewhat straightened, he let his mind wander back to the dream, and his heart immediately leapt in his chest.

It was vague, yet at the same time perfectly clear. A flash of Alyx, her hair wild, her body restrained by a straightjacket, her eyes a startling blue. Of himself edging towards madness -- madness with a dark purpose, a dark intent. A deep anger, aimed at someone that he first thought might be Hobbes; a new version of that first experience he'd had with quicksilver dreams. He hadn't been able to eat doughnuts for a month after that.

Another flash, this time of Claire, surrounded by a purple halo, saying, "I can't fix this." Alyx again, now huddled in a ball, hands over her ears, eyes squeezed shut, rocking back and forth. Then a stranger's voice: "It's all about control."

He scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to erase the images, not wanting to think about what they might mean. They made no sense anyway. Looking over at the clock, he groaned at the time the glowing red numbers revealed. Four forty-two -- no, three -- in the fricking morning, and there was no way he was going to get back to sleep now.

Why now? Why more dreams, and why so incoherent? Catching sight of the snake that coiled about his wrist, he had another memory flash. A tattoo of a rose, one that also changed color, the petals shading from blue through to purple and then to black, instead of the green-to-red his used. He was going to need a shot tomorrow, he observed a bit coolly. Maybe that was the difference -- until the inhibitor, the dreams, or his memory of them, had always been a bit fragmentary, as this one had been. Once he'd been on the inhibitor a few months, they'd become more lucid. Instead of seemingly random images thrown together, they'd become like stories that made sense to themselves. Even if some of the individual bits had been incorrect, the important pieces of information, the ones that were the core bit of truth, were always there and always left an impression upon his psyche. Now, without the inhibitor in his system, the old pattern of scattershot glimpses and confused memories had returned.

Great, so now he knew, sort of, that something bad was coming for Alyx and himself. Wonderful. "Just what the hell am I supposed to do about it?" he shouted into the room. That's when he remembered one last bit -- in the dream, he'd been walking. He shook his head; that made no sense at all. He was a minimum of two weeks from standing, according to Claire, never mind walking with any sort of confidence.

He knew he was working himself into a state of hysteria and forced himself to calm down. He convinced his pounding heart to slow, his breathing to return to normal, his mind to stop running at top speed about something that might never happen. He debated calling Alyx -- wanting to hear her voice, to confirm that she was indeed all right -- but chose not to. He was the reason she wasn't here, after all. He only hoped he'd be given the chance someday to get things back to the way they had been.

Starting tomorrow -- well, today, really -- the work would begin. He'd take whatever Claire threw at him and do whatever he could at home on his own. When he could stand again, walk to her, gaze down into her bottomless silver eyes, then he'd talk to her. She was right; he needed to find himself again, first.

With a sigh, he decided not to bother trying to go back to sleep. It was going to take him twice as long to get ready anyway, so he might as well get started.

***

Bobby keyed the plate number into the database Alyx had accessed through the State Police, and waited for it to spit back the owner of the Humvee. He wasn't expecting much, considering it was a government plate, most likely one of a pool of vehicles, registered to the agency and not a single person. So they were both very surprised when they got not only a name, but also an address and a picture that matched the DOT video image. Apparently their shooter was one Nathaniel Barnes, and the address was just a few blocks away from Alyx's place.

"Bullshit. How stupid do they think we are?" she growled, as she reached over Bobby's shoulder and pressed a few keys. Seconds later, her printer began to spit out the hard copy of the information.

"Very, at a guess." Bobby shook his head and exited the database; they didn't need it anymore right now. "Well, we might as well check it out, though I seriously doubt he'll be at home."

"Got a hunch, Bobby?" Alyx asked with a grin.

"Cute, kid. More like experience. They know we won't buy it if it's too easy." Bobby got to his feet and grabbed his jacket, which he'd thrown over the back of a chair. He watched Alyx carefully, wondering how she was really doing, but she made a point to hide it. Fawkes had been rather subdued when Bobby had picked him up this morning. Not really unexpected, but he didn't even ask about Alyx, or stop by her office to see if she was in, just headed straight down to the Keep. Alyx must have noticed Bobby's gaze.

"What? I'm fine, Bobby. Let's get this wild goose chase started." She shrugged into her jacket, grabbed her gun from one of the drawers in her desk and holstered it on her hip. She waited until he nodded, then followed him out the door and to the van.

The drive was familiar and led them to a decent apartment complex about a mile from Alyx's place. It didn't take them long to discover that Mr. Barnes was no longer in residence, though; a chat with the manager revealed that he had moved out over a month ago. The manager gave them the forwarding address, but it turned out to be a fake. They spent the entire day tracking down other leads, and ended up with a post office box at a Mail Boxes Etc. that he used, and another address.

They looked at the time and decided, rightfully, that this had been enough for one day. They'd hit the next address in the morning.

***

It took them a week of following false leads and addresses that had been abandoned before they finally caught a break.

Bobby showed up at Alyx's door before dawn, and wasn't the least bit surprised to find her both awake and dressed. She waved him in as she drank from a cup of fresh coffee.

"Is it Darien?" she asked as she moved to the kitchen. She poured him a cup in a travel mug and added the right amount of sugar and non-fat cream before handing it to him.

"Nah, kid. He's doing okay. We watched some cheesy horror flicks last night. I brought Italian." He took the cup from her and sipped at it while she hunted up a pair of socks and found her boots. "You should stop by sometime. He... he misses you, kid."

Alyx paused as she was slipping one boot on. "Yeah, well... I miss him too, but he keeps turning down my offers. We went to Balboa for a couple hours on Saturday, but it was a bit awkward." She stood upright and knocked the boot's heel into the floor to get it comfortable. "He won't even come over here. I don't know what else to do."

She grabbed her own cup and headed to the door with Bobby right behind her. "Keepy says he's doing quite well, but won't give me any details." He left the obvious question unasked, knowing she could fill it in.

In the elevator Alyx shook her head. "Don't look at me. Except for making sure my head was fine last week, Claire hasn't really spoken to me, and Darien....well, we talk, but not about anything of importance. He's still awfully depressed, and he refuses to let me help."

"Yeah, he's shutting us all out," Bobby agreed. The two of them had been working their proverbial tails off, trying to track down the shooter during the day and taking turns in the evening watching Fawkes. Even Claire had gone over a couple of times. The bullet wound had healed with little trouble; it was just a matter of Fawkes regaining the ability to walk that seemed to not be progressing as it should. The Keep kept insisting everything was fine, so Bobby tried not to worry and just gave Fawkes whatever help he'd accept. He was more worried about Alyx, who he suspected had made a few more after-hours forays into the lairs of the SWRB.

When they were ensconced in the van and driving, he felt safe enough to broach the subject. "Kid, you been causing trouble at night?"

"Not really. Just digging up what I can." It was evident by the slight tremor in her voice that she had stumbled onto something that seriously bothered her.

"What did you find?" He figured it would be better for her to talk about it than have whatever it was eating at her.

"My possible future." She rubbed her hands along the sides of the coffee mug as if to warm them. "I found the SWRB's asylum. Where their mistakes go to live out their days, being studied to find out what went wrong so that the next test group doesn't fail as badly. Not succeed. _Doesn't fail as badly_." She shuddered at whatever images the commentary had brought up.

"Shit, kid. You're gonna get your ass fried at this rate." He knew there was no way to stop her. She had a vendetta against these guys, and she wasn't going to let anything stop her, even if it got her killed in the process. Turning to look at her profile in the dim light of the dashboard, he could see the far-off look in her eyes and the hint of fear in her features. She trusted him enough to not hide her emotions completely anymore. "You won't end up in a place like that. I -- we -- wouldn't let it happen."

"Thanks, Bobby, but even you couldn't prevent it if I went screwy again. And next time they won't be able to control me." She said this in a matter-of-fact tone that, to Bobby, said she knew something he didn't.

"Well, then we'll just have to keep that from happening, now won't we?"

They had crossed the Coronado Bridge, heading out to the island and towards one of the many piers. There were police vehicles already there, as well as a tow truck and small crane, all being lit up by small spotlights. Parking out of the way, they got out and headed for the police tape strung across the area. They were stopped momentarily by a beat cop, who let them by when they flashed their badges and directed them to the detective in charge.

Bobby spoke to the detective while Alyx sidled closer to the action at the end of the pier. The detective looked a bit confused by their presence at this crime scene.

"Agent Hobbes, exactly what might Fish & Game have to do with this?" Detective Hernandez asked as he sipped at his cheap cup of coffee. It was obvious that he'd been there for several hours already, and suspected he was going to be there for several more before catching anything even resembling a break.

"We think the owner of that vehicle was involved with a case we're investigating," Hobbes answered smoothly. He glanced past the cop, watching Alyx as she made her way through the crowd and to the end of the pier where a hastily wrapped body was being pulled from the water. A couple of police divers followed it out. "How did you find the vehicle?" Hobbes asked the detective.

"Dumb luck. This pier has been closed for repairs, and when the divers went down yesterday to begin some preliminary work, they found the Hummer. The guy almost drowned when he found the body still sitting in the front seat." Hernandez obviously didn't see any reason to be evasive.

Bobby frowned, not liking the convenience of their perp being dead just as it looked like they were getting close to him. Though it made sense for the SWRB to do it this -- toss them the bone and then tie up all the loose ends for them. Since he wasn't going to be talking, there was no way for him to point the finger back at his bosses. "How long had it been down there?"

"At a guess?" Bobby nodded. "Three, four days, based on what's left of the driver. Long enough for the fish to have their share."

Okay, that was an image that Bobby really didn't need in his mind. He almost gagged on his coffee, but didn't let the cop see it.

*_Bobby, you might want to see this.*_ Alyx's mental voice was overly controlled and without any emotion at all. Usually there was some...color to her words.

Looking over, he saw her standing next to the gurney where the body had been placed. Bobby and the detective both headed towards her. She had borrowed a pair of latex gloves and was carefully going through the pockets of what was left of Barnes' jacket. Damn, the kid had balls bigger than Texas. The look on her face was a complete blank.

"Please tell me you took the forensics course recently?" He had a hard time keeping the queasiness out of his voice. He'd seen bodies plenty of times before, in a variety of states. Hell, he'd made more than a few bodies himself over the years, but this one was...was icky.

"Ummm, yeah. Couple of months ago. Why?" She lifted her head to glance at him, but she gave away nothing.

"Oh, no reason." He shook his head as she fished Barnes' wallet out of one pocket, followed by a gun from a shoulder holster. She handed the gun over, but went through the wallet carefully. He'd bet a month's salary that she was memorizing everything she could. When done, she handed it over as well, to be placed in an evidence bag. He was amazed at how calmly she was able to look over the body. Barnes was pretty well... chewed at this point, and the water hadn't done a whole lot for him, either. You could just barely tell he was the same guy from the pics they had. Alyx gently turned the corpse's head to look at something -- he had no fricking idea what -- before finally nodding her thanks to the coroner and backing away. She peeled of the gloves and tossed them away as she walked back towards the end of the pier with Bobby trailing along. A female cop walked up to her and handed her coffee mug back. Alyx ran one shaky hand through her hair and sipped at the lukewarm coffee.

"Bobby, I'm willing to bet that guy was long dead before he ever got near the water." She kept her voice quiet; no need for others to overhear.

"Why, kid?" Bobby was trying to get the image of Barnes' face out of his mind, not to mention the smell out of his nostrils. He could deal with this stuff, but that didn't mean he liked it.

Alyx sighed and drank more coffee. "He was too clean." When Bobby's mind still refused to process, she nudged him towards the crane. They were finally raising the Humvee -- definitely not a civilian Hummer -- out of the water and onto the end of the pier. "You tell me: what happens when a car hits the water nose first?"

"Crap," Bobby muttered. Barnes should have smashed his face into the steering wheel -- military issue vehicles didn't have air bags -- breaking his nose at the very least, if not more than that. Aside from being chewed, though, he'd looked fine. "Sorry kid, guess I'm not quite awake yet."

She shrugged. "I got another addy; thought we'd check it out after we look at the Humvee." She waved at the vehicle that was just now being lowered onto its tires.

"Yeah, and get more coffee. I have the bad feeling we're gonna need it." They stayed back as the Humvee was unhooked from the crane. The doors were opened, releasing a flood of water, fish, seaweed, and less savory things onto the pier to run off back into the harbor.

Once the tide had slowed to a trickle they, along with several cops, approached and began to go over the interior. There wasn't much, just the basics for ownership and insurance in the glove box. The car was registered to a local business, supposedly, but Bobby recognized it as a cover for the SWRB, especially since the license plate was the same as in the pics they had and used the coding for general use vehicles. Alyx carefully examined the front seat on the driver's side, but was very careful not to touch anything. All she did was nod slightly. He saw it as well; there was no damage inside the Humvee. There should have been some damage, to the steering wheel, the windshield, or something. The front end was completely unmarred, too, and any significant impact with the water should have caused impact damage. The hood wasn't even popped.

Backing out of the Humvee, Alyx brushed a stray piece of seaweed off her boot and walked over to a piling. Bobby joined her, after taking a moment to speak with Detective Hernandez. She was taking long deep breaths with her eyes closed. "You okay?"

She nodded. "Good enough. This whole thing stinks." She ran one hand over her face and rubbed her eyes. "Like they want us to know it's a fake."

Bobby scratched the top of his head a bit absentmindedly. "Not much we can do about it. This is the end of it, at least with the info we're allowed to use."

"Not quite," Alyx said quietly. It was a good bet the kid knew something he didn't. "Come on, let's check out his place. I'll explain on the way."

Bobby was still shaking his head in disbelief as he picked the lock to Barnes' most current residence. As he turned the knob to open the door, he realized Alyx could have done this in half the time -- not that he'd taken very long -- and without lock picks. The place had been nice at one time, but now was decidedly cluttered, like the owner had been overly involved with something and hadn't taken the time to follow a normal routine. Mail was piled unopened on a counter; the pile had become top-heavy at one point and spilled onto the floor. Dishes were sitting unwashed and, at this point, growing in the sink. There were bullet molds sitting on the kitchen table, as well as several guns. On a coffee table in the living room was an ID badge that had been defaced, the agency name scratched out and deep lines cut into the picture with a sharp object. There were also various official letters, including a psych report, once again with the agency name scratched out.

It was looking pretty much like the kid had said they'd find here. A set-up to make it look like Barnes had stolen the Dubrimium and gone rogue. Though why he'd been at the shooting remained unexplained.

"Kid..." Bobby stopped when she shook her head.

*_The place is bugged. Just call it in. We'll talk later_.* She hadn't even turned to look at him, just continued snooping about looking for more evidence.

"Yeah." Pulling out his cell phone, he did exactly that. A team would be here in twenty minutes to begin collecting the evidence. Right now, all they had to do was wait.

***

Late in the afternoon, a couple of days later, they were standing in the Official's office listening to a seemingly-apologetic gentleman explain about Agent Barnes and the reasons he might have been near the cruise ship dock that morning. About how the accidental shooting of Agent Fawkes was done by a more-than-slightly-deranged mind who'd been fired just days before. Explained how he'd managed to steal a small amount of Dubrimium and must have created the bullets on his own. On and on and on.

Bobby didn't believe a word of it, and he could tell Alyx didn't either. The Official was accepting it, just to save face on both sides, and sat there with a bored expression, even when nodding or making the appropriate comments.

When the man -- he'd never given his name -- was finished, Alyx spoke up first. "Bullshit," was her quiet comment.

The man turned on her. "Excuse me? Are you doubting what I've told you?"

"Doubt? Oh, no. I think... no, I know you are outright lying," Alyx snarled at the man.

"Miss Silver..." the Official warned without success.

"I had the DOT tape analyzed. Went back to find the original. Our copy is a fake; the time code has been altered. I checked some records as well. Agent Barnes -- one of the SWRB's top shooters by the way -- was in good standing just two weeks ago. In fact, he handled most of their projectile weapons testing, including the Dubrimium experiments." Alyx paused, looking at the man whose face had gone completely blank. "You have also failed to explain why a half dozen of your agents were attempting to kidnap Agent Fawkes."

"Enough!" the Official roared as he got to his feet.

"Not quite," Alyx snapped at him before turning and stalking towards the gentleman from the SWRB. "I would suggest you go back to your boss and tell him we're not buying any today."

"Hobbes, get her out of here, now!" The Official had gone nearly purple with anger.

Bobby didn't say one word, just grabbed Alyx by the arm and literally dragged her from the room. In the hallway, she pulled herself from his grip and stalked away without a word. Bobby wasn't sure what to do. If he had known she was going to pull something like this, instead of waiting and digging up more information like they had talked about, he'd have done everything in his power to stop her. This was crazy. All she was going to do was bring down the combined wrath of the Official and, more importantly, the SWRB, on her head. There was nothing he could do to protect her when -- not if, but when -- it happened.

"Shit," he muttered, heading to his office to await the Official's summons that he knew would be coming. He had promised to keep her away from the SWRB, and instead he had both helped her and ignored the obvious signs that she had been snooping around and digging into places she shouldn't have.

***

Darien sat just outside the still partially opened office door -- he had helped the door stay open just a little bit -- as he listened to the conversation going on between the stranger from the SWRB and the Official. It didn't take him long to realize that, whoever this guy was, he was not some lackey sent to deliver the message about Barnes. This was the guy in charge.

"I apologize about Miss Silver. She is sometimes too curious for her own good." That hint of fear was back in the Official's voice.

"I would suggest you remind her of her place. If you can't keep her in line, perhaps someone else can." The threat was obvious, even though the tone of voice was mild.

"You know as well as I that that won't happen. She has proven too useful to other agencies, and they won't break the deal even with you threatening them." The Official didn't sound quite as confident as Darien would have wished, but he didn't sound like a frightened rabbit either.

"Look, it's simple, you give me what I want and we'll get out of your way. It'll go back to business as usual." The man's voice was smooth, oily, and made the hairs on the back of Darien's neck stand up in reaction.

"It's out of my hands," the Official said, with a touch of smugness to his voice.

"If you don't keep her out of our business, I will take action. They can't stop me unless I allow them to, and so far I have, but my patience is wearing thin." The words were calmly spoken, but had a dangerous edge to them. "In the end, it's all about control."

Darien shivered, as those words triggered a flashback to that damn dream. Deciding he'd heard enough, he rolled away from the office and dropped the quicksilver once around the corner. Damn, he'd hoped he'd have more time, or that this would be one of those occasions when the dream turned out to be nothing more than a dream. He only hoped he was ready enough for this.

Moving faster, he headed to the office he and Bobby shared to see how things were going. Badly, at a guess; Bobby and Alyx were in the midst of an argument, but silence descended the instant he opened the door. Rolling through, he looked from one to the other. "Don't stop on my account. I haven't seen a good battle between the two of you in ages."

"Fawkes, good timing, maybe you can talk her out of this foolishness." Bobby looked like he was about to tear his hair out, except for the small fact he didn't currently have any to spare.

"Bobby, if you think I'm just going to stand back and do nothing, you are even more nuts than usual," she snapped at him. Her hands were balled into fists, and anger was written in every line of her body.

Bobby's eyes narrowed, but he didn't comment on her rather nasty shot at his state of mind. Somehow he knew she was just blowing off steam. This situation was starting to take a toll on her from all sides. "Kid, just calm down."

"Alyx," Darien's voice was soft, and her focus swung to him. He saw something in her eyes, a desperate need to end this before something worse happened. "What do you have in mind?"

Bobby threw up his hands in frustration. He wondered why he even bothered asking Fawkes to help; he should have known he'd side with the kid instead of common sense. When it came to Alyx, Fawkes had no common sense.

"I want to follow him and confront him. Hell, I'll cut a deal with him behind the 'Fish's back if that's what it takes, but I want him out of our lives." She kept her voice steady and she met his gaze with a look that said she'd do this no matter what.

"Kid, this is stupid. You don't want any part of this. For everyone's sake, just drop it." Bobby felt torn. He understood her wanting to do something, anything, to keep herself as well as the rest of them safe, but in this business, in this day and age, there was no such thing as safe. He hated having to use this tactic, but it might be the only thing to get through to her. He lowered his voice, forcing her to listen. "You have kids; do want them to end up in the middle of this?"

Alyx paled, but it was Darien who spoke. "Bobby, you accused me of being cruel? Even the Fat Man wouldn't use that against her."

Bobby sighed and shook his head. "Sorry, kid. I'm just trying to make you understand. These guys will stop at nothing, can find out anything, and will do whatever it takes to get what they want and keep their little program secure. If it wasn't for the fact that they know almost nothing about you, I'd put them at the top of the suspect list of those your... your ex worked for." He sat down in the chair behind the desk, forcing himself to calm down. "These guys could easily have done it."

Alyx closed her eyes and backed up until she was able to lean against the wall. "Then what do I do? I can't just drop it."

"Kid, you were in the room with that guy; didn't you get anything from him? Hell, even I figured out he was someone big and damn dangerous." Bobby was working to get her past the emotions and into rational thought again. When she thought things out, she was very, very dangerous.

"I don't trust it -- anything -- I get superficially anymore." Alyx looked uncomfortable and unhappy. "I don't dare."

"Huh?" was all Bobby could think of.

"Why not? You pretty much rely on it for first impressions, or you did." Darien rolled back and forth in place, unable to decide whether or not to move closer to her, or if she'd even allow him near.

She shook in place for a moment, then whispered one word. "Eberts."

At her words, Darien did move. Stopping in front of her, he reached out and took her right hand into his. "Alyx, it wasn't your fault. He fooled all of us."

"Hell, kid, I worked with him for years and never suspected a thing. I didn't really like the little brown-noser, but I had no idea he... he was..." Bobby stopped at the look of pain on her face.

"You don't get it, do you Bobby? I should have known." Her voice was tight with anger and fear. "I should have known. He was my god-damned friend and I didn't know." She looked down at Darien and asked sadly, softly. "How can I trust my senses when I didn't know?"

Darien didn't know what to say. She had a point. Of all of them, you would think she would have been the one to know, to have figured out there was something odd going on with Eberts, but she hadn't. Perhaps it was because she'd been too close to him to notice the signs, if there had even been any. Darien hadn't been able to believe it even as he'd watched the drama play out before his eyes. Nerdy, subservient, Eberts suddenly taking on the characteristics of a trained killer? If it had been suggested to him, he would have thought it was a joke and burst out laughing. Because she didn't figure it out, because she felt she should have known all along, because she probably felt she could have stopped this long ago, she felt responsible. And now she no longer trusted her abilities.

He'd been shoving her away over his own personal fears, and never even noticed her loss of confidence in herself.

"Alyx, you've said these guys are good. That they can hide from you. Don't you think Eberts would need to be twice as good? Don't you think he would have been prepared, warned about what you could do?" Her hand had gone cold in his and he tried to warm it.

"Yeah, kid. Even you said the Eberts we dealt with daily was an imposed personality. Not the same guy as at the end." Bobby wished he'd known she was feeling this way. She had to have been holding this in for weeks, not letting even a hint of it escape.

She shook her head. "Doesn't matter. I screwed up and...and we still don't know what it might have cost us. You mentioned that the SWRB might go after my kids...well, whoever Eberts and Jess worked for, they have already tried that twice since we faked my death." Both Bobby and Darien looked shocked. No one had told them. "I will do what is necessary to protect my family." She looked from Darien to Bobby. "All of them."

Bobby didn't need an explanation as to what she meant. "All right, but you'll do this with backup." He looked at Fawkes, who nodded in agreement.

Alyx relaxed marginally. "Well, we better get moving then. He's just about done getting his pound of flesh from the Official."


	10. Chapter 10

Part X

__

One smart cookie, Margo Kaufman, once said, "The only thing worse than a man you can't control is a man you can." The real trick is how you achieve said control. 'Cause unless you do it just right, you can find yourself being the one controlled. 

"Fawkes, I'm telling you, this is stupid. She's just going to end up getting herself in deeper shit than she's already in." Bobby turned a quick left, following the tracker signal on the pad mounted in the dashboard before him. Alyx had allowed a tracker to be placed on her car as a precaution. "The Chief is going to string me up by my thumbs over this."

"Ah, so it's not her you're worried about, it's your ass," Darien said with more than a little sarcasm from the rear of the van. It was still simpler to secure him in the wheelchair than to play musical seats, even if he had gotten the hang of it over the last week or so.

"Fawkes, don't start with me," Bobby snapped at him. "It's been one fricking thing after another this last week, and none of it good. You think I'm in a bad mood, but the kid is worse, and you haven't been helping matters any." He hadn't meant to say that last bit to Fawkes, not now anyway, but it was out. He waited for the explosion.

"Well, my week hasn't been all that much fun either," Darien grouched in a low voice. That was putting it mildly; some of the stuff the Keeper had him doing had been more than a little painful.

"Yeah, well, maybe it would have been easier on all of us if you hadn't shut us out." Bobby didn't shout, though part of him wanted to. Yeah, Fawkes had let one of them stop by for a few hours at night, but never more than that, and his days were spent down in the Keep doing whatever it was Claire had him doing. Bobby knew it wasn't necessary, but he would have liked to have Fawkes helping on their manhunt, if only for the comic relief. The kid was easy to work with, but she was not Fawkes, and her mood had deteriorated over the last few days of their investigation.

"I have my reasons, Bobby. And I'm here now, ain't I?" Darien was not about to explain why he had done things this way, not yet. Not until he was sure.

Bobby relaxed a bit. "Yeah, I guess you are. Look, I know the kid wants to do this alone, but I'm gonna follow her in, just in case. Think you can, you know, do the cellophane thing to me?"

Darien shook his head, wondering why Bobby thought he had to ask. Things hadn't changed that much in the last couple of weeks, had they? "Sure, but what if they end up walking into some full scale lab, or something similar? Your sudden appearance may make things a bit awkward."

"'Cause they've stopped, and it looks like nothing of the sort. In fact, I think the building's abandoned." Bobby looked over the place as they drove by it. Alyx's car was parked down the street from the building where he'd just seen the Humvee pull into the underground-parking garage. Bobby kept going and circled around, to park on a cross street where the building was in view. The location would also allow a reasonably quick escape if necessary. They were just a few blocks from the Gaslamp District, right in the middle of downtown. It was kinda scary to realize that the SWRB had a location in amongst so many innocents.

Climbing in back, he freed Fawkes' chair and dug out the headsets, setting one in place about his ear. This was bit of a role reversal. It was usually Fawkes who did the recon. "You can handle this, right?"

"Hobbes, unless I need to use my feet, I think I'll manage," Darien sniped, but Bobby didn't hold it against him. Doing things this way was more than a little weird.

Alyx was suddenly in their heads. *_I'm following him in. I'll stay in contact_.*

Both men could still 'feel' her, but she was not relaying any information directly; it was just that light contact they had both grown used to and found very useful when working together. Bobby had to admit he'd gotten a bit spoiled working with her, even if he wasn't always completely comfortable with her. Hell, there were even times when Fawkes still triggered his wiggy-meter.

They watched as Alyx made her way into the parking garage. They knew she'd purposely chosen to remain visible, since the SWRB apparently didn't know about that particular talent of hers and she saw no reason to tip them off to it. Who knew what they might do if they did know. They might try to harvest a gland that didn't exist, thinking that perhaps Kevin Fawkes or the Agency had created a second one. That would not be a good thing.

Once she was out of sight, Bobby slid open the door to the van and looked over at Fawkes, who nodded and rolled closer. Setting one hand on Bobby's arm, the quicksilver flowed and quickly covered him.

"Make it quick, Hobbes," Darien reminded him needlessly.

"I know, Fawkes." Bobby's voice came over the headset Darien was wearing tinged with humor. He was already a good distance from the van.

***

The Director parked the Humvee and prepared for this meeting. As soon as she had gone after him at the Agency, he'd known she'd try and follow him, to confront him and get this situation resolved one way or another. Once he had figured out she was the one infiltrating the systems of various facilities, he had known this was inevitable. This was why he'd made a point of going to the Agency alone. He preferred not having to frighten the Official to get his way in this matter. So he made himself seem less than he was, to lure her into an action he could take advantage of. The real trick of it would be to make sure it went his way and not hers.

Getting out, he walked away from the protection of the vehicle and headed towards the elevator and stairs off to one side. There were some crates and other items here and there in the garage. This facility was one they had recently decided to close, and some less-important items were still awaiting disbursement to other facilities, which is why it was a perfect place for this. There would be no one to disturb them.

He paused a good dozen yards from the stairwell, somehow knowing she was already there. "Miss Silver, is there something you wish to speak to me about?"

"Perhaps," Alyx said quietly from behind him. "Though I was under the impression you wanted something from me."

He turned about slowly to face her. Even knowing what she looked like from pictures and their earlier meeting, he was still surprised. She had a presence that was unmistakable and undeniable. It was also immediately obvious that, no matter what she looked like, she was no child. His intelligence had failed utterly, in his opinion, in not discovering this. "I have been requesting your services for a simple matter." When she said nothing, simply waited for him to continue, he began to wonder if perhaps his intelligence was mistaken about other things. "There is information I need from a former...employee of mine. It's not much, just a formula for a project we're working on."

"And you think I can get it for you? Do I look like an interrogator?" Alyx shook her head and laughed derisively.

"Of course not. I know about your ability. You are a fairly talented telepath. I simply want you to pull the information from his mind." He watched as she laughed harder.

"You really are a fool. I have to wonder how you cause such fear in everyone else, when you have no idea who or what is standing before you." Her attitude was one of complete indifference; he truly didn't seem to frighten her, though he was quite sure she knew more than enough about his agency to realize what he could and would do to fulfill their charter.

"You're quite right. I don't know exactly what I'm dealing with, but I can be certain I will enjoy finding out."

Bobby had followed Alyx inside and hidden behind one of the stacks of crates before the quicksilver flaked off. He watched the confrontation between the two. It was possible that the kid knew he was here, but the SWRB guy should have no idea. The kid was bluffing the guy real well. He still had just enough contact with her that her emotions were leaking through. Yeah, she was pissed off, and had enough confidence in her abilities and knowledge to come to some sort of arrangement; underneath, though, she was scared, and she should be. When Bobby heard the guy's plan, he knew the kid would never agree, no matter who it was, or what the subject. She would want no part of having yet another person's memories -- their whole life -- stuffed into her mind. She had enough trouble dealing with the ones already stuffed in there without adding to them. Hell, some days she had enough trouble dealing with her own memories.

Bobby didn't like the turn the conversation had taken. He peeked through a gap in the crates in time to see the man fire something at Alyx. He got a mental yelp from her, and then a shout of pure anger that Fawkes was sure to have heard over the headset.

"Hobbes?" Right on cue, Darien's voice was in his ear.

"Hold your position," Bobby sub-vocalized and got an acknowledgment from Fawkes. *_Kid_?* Bobby figured what the hell. It was worth a try. If she were still paying attention, she'd hear him.

*_No worries. If it's a tranq, it's one I've adapted to. I'm.... fine_* Her voice got... fuzzy was the only word he could think of to explain it. Almost like there was some sort of outside interference, like static almost.

*_Kid_?* Instead of a mental response, there was a surge of emotion -- mainly fear, though there was a hint of anger -- and then nothing. "Crap," he muttered and stepped out from behind the crates in time to see the kid sway and stumble.

"What have you done?" she screamed at him.

"What your Official could not, obviously." He looked from the angry woman to the man he recognized as Agent Hobbes, who had stepped out from behind a pile of crates with a gun drawn. He wasn't all that surprised that she hadn't come alone, even if it had been her intention to do so. He was careful to do nothing that would set off Hobbes; the cold, controlled look of pure rage on his face told him that the man would not hesitate to shoot him if given the opportunity and an excuse.

Bobby sidled next to Alyx, not taking his eyes off the guy for a second. "Kid?"

Alyx flinched away, but didn't make it far as she stumbled again and just barely kept herself from falling to the concrete floor. She closed her eyes and shook her head like she was trying to clear it. When she opened them, he was shocked by the look of total panic in them. "Bobby? It's gone."

"Huh? Kid, what are you talking about?" Bobby set a hand on her arm, still keeping one eye on the bastard who'd done this to her, whatever the hell it was.

"I can't feel anything. It's gone." She was near hysteria at this point, and that's when he recognized the look in her eyes. When she'd come back from Cabo that first time, when they'd had her doped up on inhibitors and had learned the hard way that cutting off her extra senses made her go a bit nuts. Losing them could and would send her into full-blown panic attacks. They'd solved the problem by easing up on the drugs and allowing her to 'feel' a minimum amount, just not enough to use her abilities. They also suspected that, since she was a little nuts already, trying to put her mind back together, it actually helped and kept her from panicking too badly about the loss.

He stepped between her and the SWRB mook, intending to protect her at any cost. Another wave of disorientation must have hit her then, for she sat down heavily, her hands going to her head as she whimpered in terror and pain. "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing I can't correct." He slowly withdrew a case from his jacket and showed them the contents. It was a syringe containing an opaque liquid. "This will counteract the effects. Temporarily."

"Fool," Bobby snarled. "All you've managed to do is drive her towards insanity."

"Then perhaps we should cooperate and get her the help she needs." He used the cool voice that had worked so many times before to throw off his enemies, which led them to believe that he could be tricked or persuaded. "Before the damage to her mind is irreversible."

"I don't think so," was growled from behind him. He never had a chance to turn. Something cold impacted the back of his head, knocking him into darkness.

Bobby just stared at the empty air where the voice had come from. A moment later, Fawkes appeared, wielding the bat that had been living in the van for weeks now. Just a few steps behind him, the wheelchair also appeared as the quicksilver flaked away.

"D... D.... Dare?" Alyx stuttered out, staring at the figure... standing just a few feet away.

"Surprise," Darien said, looking from the unconscious man at his feet to Alyx, who was looking more than a little confused. It was nice to hear her call him that again, it had been too long since he'd heard that nickname come from her lips. "I was gonna surprise you in a few more days, but this seemed to be a better occasion."

"No shit, my friend. Nice to see you standing there." Bobby holstered his gun and moved over to the SWRB guy, checking to see if he was even alive. Once he determined the guy would live, he dug out his handcuffs and, wrenching the guy's arms back none too gently, secured him. He then picked up the case he'd been holding and verified that the syringe within was undamaged. He wasn't sure what the stuff was, or what Alyx had been hit with, but figured the Keeper would want to check it out, and do whatever it was she did with all that fancy equipment down in the Keep.

Darien had moved over to Alyx with slow, but fairly steady steps, and lowered himself into a crouch next to her. He was still a bit unsteady, but could do this without too much trouble. "Alyx?"

She blinked at him in confusion, as if she was unsure who he was. She reached out one shaky hand to touch his cheek, her fingers just brushing across his cheekbone and jaw line. "You walked?"

He was about to answer her when her eyes unfocused, the pupils expanding and contracting unexpectedly, and she whimpered, her hand falling away. "Bobby, go get the van. We need to get her out of here."

"Good idea." Bobby handed over his gun. "Shoot him in the leg if he causes trouble," Bobby said, nodding at the SWRB bastard who looked like he might be about to wake up.

"Gladly," Darien snarled, shifting so that he could watch the son of a bitch and still help Alyx -- as much as he could, considering he had no idea what was going on.

Bobby nodded and took off at a run.

"Alyx." Darien stayed calm. He'd heard what she'd said and knew she'd need something to focus on, some input coming in to help deal with the loss of her other senses. Her head swung about and she succeeded on focusing on him for the moment. He set one hand over hers, making contact with her, hoping he was helping and not causing more problems. The last time, touch had helped the most in reorienting her, but then she'd had something to feel with. She'd simply been at a loss as to who she was. When she groaned, her eyes rolling up, he just managed to keep her from smacking the back of her skull into the floor. "What the hell?" he muttered.

There was the sound of movement and Darien looked to see the SWRB guy trying to sit up.

The Director looked from Agent Fawkes to the woman who lay uncomfortably on the floor next to him. He had a healthy respect for the weapon so causally aimed at him and he knew that he'd better be very, very careful or Fawkes would find a reason to shoot him, and not to kill. "It looks like the secondary drug is taking effect."

"Huh?" Darien let the sound escape, he was so caught off guard.

"Oh, just a little something we came up with after the failed experiments with your brother's work. It truly is amazing how many new things we can come up with, even with the failures." He looked Darien in the eye. "Though he did finally succeed with you, didn't he?"

"That's debatable," Darien growled. "Now, what did you do to her?" The gun was lifted and aimed with a deliberate calmness. Guns were still not his favorite weapon, but both Bobby and Alyx had made certain he was comfortable and could handle one when situations dictated the necessity. For this guy, he'd gladly make an exception when it came to pulling the trigger.

"Nothing much. It enhances the normal senses, though it does have this annoying tendency to drive those we've used it on into a sort of sensory overload and either into madness or a coma." He shook his head. "Given that she is a telepath, I thought perhaps she might be able to process the extra information with more success than a normal human."

Darien felt a burning rage steal over him and he came damn near to pulling the trigger. "Thrice-be-damned fool. She already 'is' hypersensitive." Darien forced himself to his feet, far steadier than he should have been. Perhaps it was the anger giving him the strength he needed. He cocked the hammer of the gun and set the muzzle against the bastard's temple. "You stole one set of her senses and have screwed with the others. How long do you think she'll stay sane?"

"You want her sane -- to live. Let me go. I have the counter to both, but she'll never see them unless I get what I want." The Director showed no fear, even if he was feeling more than a bit concerned, but he knew that his words would have the effect he wanted. There was very little chance that Fawkes would actually pull the trigger once he knew that he held the only way to help her.

Darien didn't care, wasn't the least bit impressed. This guy was just like Arnaud, only he had the government's approval to pull his little scam. Dead, he would never bother them again. And, if nothing else, he trusted Claire to solve just about any problem. Decision made, he began to pull the trigger when Alyx spoke.

"Don't, Dare. Please." He could barely hear her.

With a snarl, Darien shifted his hold on the gun and hit Mr. Smug across the face, sending him back to nappy-land. Ignoring him, Darien moved back to Alyx's side. She was shivering and sweating at the same time. It took less than a second for him to figure out something was seriously wrong. She was sitting with her knees pulled tightly to her chest, staring at him without really seeing him. "Alyx..."

She moaned and her hands came up to cover her ears. His voice had been soft, and yet she had reacted like he'd shouted at her. He squatted down in front of her, unsure what to do to help. Setting a hand gently on her forearm he watched as she bit her lip and closed her eyes. "Easy," he whispered quite sure she would hear him. "Tell me what's wrong."

It took a couple of tries, but she finally got the words out. "Everything. I can hear your heart pounding, your touch hurts, my clothes hurt. I can't focus, too bright, too damn close." She swallowed hard. "I can taste the air, smell everything, including your fear, your anger. It... It's too much."

"Oh, crap." Darien pulled her in close, hoping that his presence would help. She didn't fight him, even as she shuddered and moaned her discomfort to him and the world at large. Without her other senses, her ability to feel everything about her, her mind must be a mass of confusion. Too much information from one source; too little from another.

Bobby pulled up in the van then. Alyx squealed and tried to get away, the sound obviously overwhelming her shaky hold. Her hypersensitivity was something she'd gotten used to, but it wasn't something she could completely control, and now it had been kicked up to a point where it was hurting her.

Opening the rear door, Bobby took one look at the unconscious and bleeding bad guy and guessed that he'd woken up and opened his mouth, pissing off Fawkes in the process. "Fawkes?"

"Bring the black bag," Darien said to him. Then to Alyx, "We'll get you to the Keep." When Bobby handed him the bag, he opened it and pulled out a vial and a syringe. Not the N.E., which she also kept in that bag, but the sedative she'd started keeping around just in case she went off the deep end and tried to take over the world again -- her choice of words and not his. She'd made him practice this as a precaution. Setting up a half dose -- he wanted her relaxed, but not completely out of it -- he injected it into the muscle of her upper arm. She yelped at the pain the needle entering her flesh caused, but within seconds had gone limp in his hold. She still shivered in reaction to whatever the drug was doing to her inside, but she was no longer fighting a war with herself. With Bobby's help -- actually, Bobby had to do most of the work, as carrying something as heavy as Alyx was not yet something he was up to -- they got her into the back of the van. Once there, she curled up and tried to hide from the world. Then they manhandled the Director into the van and tied him up more securely. Grabbing the bat and wheelchair, they got in themselves and headed back to the Agency.

Darien sat on the floor, with Alyx's head in his lap, his fingers tracing the outline of her face in hopes of keeping her calm. Every now and again, she would open her eyes and try to focus on the world about her, but there wasn't much for her to see. Just the dark gray wall that divided the front of the van from the rear. Bobby had kept the door open so that they could talk.

"How's she doing Fawkes?" Bobby had gone into protective mode. He was also in a bit of shock over the fact that, not only had Fawkes walked, but also he had kept them from knowing about it. Claire hadn't even told him, and it had to have been at Fawkes' request because she knew he'd been worried about his partner and friend.

"I have no idea, Bobby," Darien answered. "She's alive. That's the only thing I can say for sure." Alyx's color had gone from pale to white as she fought the drugs coursing through her system. He'd had enough experience down in the Keep, dealing with various injuries of his own and others, to easily take her pulse. That's when he discovered just how sensitive she had become. The gentle pressure of his fingers on her wrist was enough to leave noticeable red marks that bordered on bruises. "Ah, hell," he mumbled, not knowing what else to do.

When they pulled up in front of the Agency building, they were met by a baker's dozen of agents who took the guy tied up in the back into custody. Bobby followed them, once he'd taken a moment to verify that Darien and Claire, who had also been waiting, could handle Alyx well enough. Bobby had some major explaining to do, to the Official especially if this guy was a high up in the SWRB hierarchy as he thought he was.

"Darien, what happened to her?" Claire asked as they shifted Alyx to the gurney Claire had brought with her.

Darien got the wheel chair out of the van and lowered himself into it. His legs were feeling the strain of his recent activities and were reminding him exactly how much it could hurt to put himself back together. "Exactly? I have no idea. He shot her with some drug. She's lost her extra senses and had her hypersensitivity cranked up." He rolled along behind as Claire got them moving down to the Keep as swiftly as she could. He pulled out the hard case containing the syringe the guy had been waving about. Once in the Keep, he handed it to Claire. "He said that would temporarily counter the effects of the first drug."

"All right." She took the case and set it on one of the lab benches. "Now, what did you give her to calm her?"

Darien had to think for a moment to remember what it was called. "A half dose of the K-5 sedative. She needed it."

Claire nodded. "Good, I know the effects of that one." She turned away from him and moved to set up the various monitors that she would need to figure out what was going on with Alyx. Once everything was they way she wanted and Alyx was nearly buried in a forest of wires, she retrieved a vial from one of the cabinets and filled a syringe. Moving to Alyx she first gathered several test tubes of blood for testing and then injected the counter for the sedative.

Alyx moaned in her stupor and rolled onto her side to huddle in a ball of confusion and pain. Claire looked up at Darien, who pushed himself to his feet and grabbed the crutches he'd been using during the day recently. With a critical eye, she watched him walk over to the table.

"How are you doing?" Claire asked.

"Not bad, a little tired and sore." Darien trusted his legs to hold him as he ran gentle fingers across the back of Alyx's hand. "I'll manage. What about her?" He nodded towards the shivering woman on the gurney between them, who was slowly returning to a full consciousness that she wanted no part of.

Claire held up the test tubes of blood. "That's what I'm hoping to find out." She walked to the centrifuge, slid the test tubes into place and turned it on. While she waited she looked over the monitors and frowned.

Darien had hung out enough in the early days to know what was normal and what wasn't for Alyx, and even he could tell everything was way off. Her pulse and blood pressure were far higher than normal -- understandable given the circumstances, but not very healthy. The brain wave monitor was almost flat in comparison to its normal arcs and spikes. Claire was also running an EEG, the paper spitting out and piling up on the floor. She didn't look any happier about those readings. "Well, Claire, what's going on?"

"I wish I knew," she muttered, mostly to herself. "I have to run some more tests before I'll know anything. Just try and keep her calm." She moved away, this time picking up the syringe that Darien had brought with him, obviously intent on finding out just what the hell it was.

Alyx opened her eyes and blinked blearily up at him. "Wha's hap'nen?"

Darien started; he hadn't expected her to wake up at all. "Claire is trying to figure out what he did to you." He fought the urge to hold her, to touch her any more than what he was already doing. He could see the already deep purple bruise from where Claire had drawn the blood and the swiftly darkening area from the other injection.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked bitterly.

"I wasn't ready to. I...I'm not sure I can explain it." Or he wasn't willing to yet. "It's not important now."

"Liar," she snapped, which turned out to be a mistake. Her hands came up to cover her ears, her own voice more than she could bear at the moment. This apparently triggered a full collapse of whatever control she'd managed to achieve, and she began to tear off all the electrodes and other items Claire had stuck to her.

"Alyx, stop it." Darien grabbed her wrists to try and hold her still, only to find himself shoved violently away. He ended up on the floor, with his ass in more pain than he'd known in ages. Okay, maybe a slight exaggeration, but it sure as hell wasn't comfortable. Alyx had completely lost it, scrambling off the gurney and backing up against the wall of metal coolers, looking more than a little wild-eyed. With a groan, Darien got to his feet, ignoring the crutches that had fallen to the floor along with him. He made his way over to her, dream images flashing through his mind.

She was huddled with her hands over her ears and eyes tightly shut, rocking back and forth. She was mumbling something that he couldn't quite hear. He was getting tired of this up and down crap, and his legs were not very happy with him at the moment. When he tried to crouch down next to her, his legs gave out and he ended up sitting harder than he intended to, leaving his tailbone aching worse than before. "Shit," he groaned, as his back spasmed along with his legs. When it had finally passed, he shifted closer to Alyx and drew her into an embrace. At first she struggled to get away, but at his soothing words she soon calmed a bit and leaned into his hold. "Easy. It's all right. Try and focus on one thing."

She shook and moaned. "It hurts. Everything hurts."

"I know," he said into her hair. He knew she was talking about more than her current problems. "I'm sorry."

She released a shaky breath and buried her face against his chest, seemingly trying to hide from everything else. That's when Claire came back in carrying a printout.

"Darien?" she called out when she couldn't immediately find him.

"Here," he replied softly and waited till Claire came into view. "She's not doing too good." He didn't like the controlled look on Claire's face, and he felt his heart sinking even before she spoke. She was standing beside the iron support post, her head outlined by the purple lights behind her.

When she spoke, he knew exactly what she would say. "I can't fix this."

He closed his eyes, wondering what other good news would be coming.


	11. Chapter 11

Part XI

Bobby walked into the Official's office, not looking forward to telling the boss that they had cold-cocked and essentially kidnapped one of the top guys from the SWRB, then brought him back here to be shoved in the padded room until he regained consciousness. Bobby could feel his ears sizzling already.

Hobbes had no idea what Smith and the 'Fish were working on when he walked in, and he didn't really care. "Smith, vamoose," he said without preamble. He held the door open and gestured for Smith to leave.

The Official must have guessed something was up, so he simply nodded to Smith, who picked up the stack of files and left the room without a word. Bobby shut the door behind him and moved to stand in front of the Official's desk. "I like that one, quiet and obedient."

"Hobbes, cut the crap and tell me what the hell you screwed up this time." The Official sounded more than a bit worn out, which was unusual. He typically went to great lengths to hide anything he might be feeling from his agents, especially from Hobbes.

"Well, you remember the SWRB mook that was here earlier?" The Official just sat there, waiting for Hobbes to continue. "He's currently unconscious and locked in the padded room."

The glasses came off and the Official's hand came up to rub the bridge of his nose. "I did not just hear that. Because, if I had, I would be forced to kill you and display your head on the battlements of the building in order to save this Agency."

Hobbes didn't react. He'd known this wouldn't go over well. "Sorry, Chief, but he drugged the kid with something and tried to grab her. You want that to happen?"

"And how, pray tell, did Miss Silver get anywhere near him?" The tone was mild, almost curious, but Bobby could hear the undertone of exasperation and suppressed rage.

"Uh, she followed him and, since we didn't think she should confront him alone, we -- me and Fawkes, that is -- we followed her," Hobbes answered, not feeling the least bit guilty over it. If she had gone alone, the SWRB would now have her, and the Agency would probably never have seen her again.

"So you, like the complete and total fool that you are, thought it would be better to kidnap the Director of the SWRB and bring him back here. Brilliant. Just the kind of intelligent work I expect from you." The Official's voice slowly rose as he spoke, until he was bellowing the final words at the top of his lungs.

"Boss, just calm down and listen," Hobbes began, only to have the Official get to his feet and stalk around the desk at him. Somehow Hobbes kept his place without flinching; usually, having that much mass coming at him at that speed would make him dive for cover. Instead he yelled, "He said it was to control her! Is that what you want? To hold her here the same way you do Fawkes?"

That stopped the Official and cooled the rage that had overtaken his expression. "No, damn it. That's the last thing I want. Miss Silver...." He stopped and shook his head, lowering his voice "She holds the keys to her chains, not I." He leaned against the desk. "This is getting out of hand."

Hobbes waited while the Official thought some more about the situation. "Hobbes, watch him. Let me know when he regains consciousness. I need to make some calls."

"What about the kid?" Hobbes asked, wondering of the fat bastard had forgotten about her already.

"I'm sure the Keeper will inform me of her condition when she's ready." The Official moved back around the desk and sat down. "Hobbes...."

"Yeah, Chief. I'll keep him busy." Hobbes left the office and headed back down to see how their guest was doing.

***

Darien sighed and looked up at Claire from his position down on the floor. "Explain, please."

"We recovered a small sample of the drug from the dart gun he used. I'm not even sure what the hell it is, except that it's not an inhibitor." Claire did not look at all thrilled.

Darien shifted slightly, trying to get Alyx more comfortable. He wasn't very successful; she still had her eyes shut and her hands up over her ears. "Well, if you don't know what it is, do you at least know what it's doing?"

Claire shook her head. "Only vaguely. I'm hoping some more tests will answer that more precisely." She moved closer to the couple, wanting to see how Alyx was doing. "It appears that the drug has blocked her control." She held up the printouts for a moment before setting them on the chair.

"How?" Alyx got out in a barely audible voice.

"I wish I knew," Claire said softly. "I want to run an MRI and a CT scan. Maybe a PET scan as well." She paused, watching Alyx carefully. "It's almost as if they've overwritten your control programming. It's still there, you just can't access it."

"Claire, her control is the pineal gland right?" Claire nodded. "Isn't that also what controls her quicksilver?"

"Bloody hell," Claire muttered. "Yes. The damn fool had no idea what he was playing with."

Darien snorted, which was too much for Alyx. She whimpered and tried to get away again, but he didn't allow her to, holding her still until she simply stopped fighting him. "He thinks she's just a telepath. Do you want to correct his impression?"

Claire chose to deal with Alyx's problem first. "Alyx, you can control your sight and hearing consciously. Stop letting it control you."

Alyx struggled free and forced herself to her feet with a snarl. "You have no idea what you're talking about, Keeper," she said with a hiss. "To you I'm nothing but a bunch of numbers and chemical formulas you can read on a computer screen. I'm surprised you're not cheering. They finally figured out a way to control me. What a shame it may also break me."

Darien had gotten to his feet by Alyx's second sentence and moved to stand beside her. She was shaking in place, though he couldn't be sure if it was from anger or the drug's side effects. "Don't do this, Alyx. Claire is doing what she can."

Alyx turned to glare at him. She had more than a bit of hysteria in her voice. "Oh, lovely, this coming from Mister stay the-hell-away-from-me himself. " She backed away from him, her hands coming up in front of her, until she bumped into the tank of piranha. She flinched, her eyes gone a bit wild again. "Oh gods, what's been done to me?"

"Alyx, that's what I want to find out." Claire showed her smarts once again by not moving an inch. Even she could tell Alyx was not all there anymore.

"Let her help," Darien said. "In this, I trust her. She'll do everything she can to fix it." For a change, it was true. Yeah, he was still angry about some things, but he trusted Claire to help in a crisis, to do anything and everything she could to resolve this and get things back to normal.

Alyx gave a quick nod and closed her eyes. As they watched, her countenance relaxed as she regulated her breathing. "All right, I've got control for now. Let's get this done before I lose it completely." Claire didn't say a word, and together the two women headed to the door of the lab.

"Claire..." Darien had no idea what to do now. Just sit here waiting?

"An hour, Darien, two at the most. Rest for a bit." Claire opened the door to the Keep. "Lab four, Alyx, the equipment is there."

"I know," Alyx commented. "I paid for the damn stuff."

The door shut on their voices, leaving Darien alone. The timing was excellent, as the back of his head burst into pain just then, driving him to his knees with his hands wrapped around the back of his skull. 'Don't fight it,' he reminded himself. 'Don't fight it.' But it wasn't easy. The tendrils of pain seemed to radiate out through his skull, triggering spasms throughout the rest of his body and making him groan aloud.

When it passed, finally, he found himself curled on the floor without quite remembering how he'd gotten there. Stretching out slowly, he rotated to lie on his back on the cool concrete floor of the Keep. He'd been ignoring the headache, figuring he still had plenty of time, and forgetting that he was no longer on the inhibitor. Looking at his wrist, he noted the three green segments remaining and wondered how he'd gotten that far without realizing it.

Thinking back, he tried to figure out where all his time had gone. Himself and wheelchair in the hallway, eavesdropping on the conversation between the Official and the Director, then Hobbes at the building, followed by himself and the wheelchair again until he could get close enough to take out the SWRB guy. Guess he had used it up. He argued with himself about telling Claire and getting a shot of counteragent, but chose to wait. There was the hint of something, an almost memory, that stopped him.

Pushing himself up off the floor, he walked over to the closest thing the lab had to a mirror -- a cheap paper towel dispenser -- and checked his eyes. He was pleased to see no obvious signs of the madness showing yet. Even so, he could hear it -- that mocking whisper in the back of his mind, that darker presence that he knew would soon be shouting at him to do things that he normally wouldn't be able to act upon.

He gave his head a shake, driving the whispers back, reestablishing his control of the situation, his life, and his choices. His life had taken a darker path in recent years. Sometimes it was simply easier to follow the suggestions that trickled from the gland, easy to let go, to allow himself to become what the quicksilver drove him to. With a sudden need to not be alone, to be around others who did not see him as the madman he could become, he grabbed the crutches and walked out of the Keep, headed for lab four to impose on the company of Claire.

He was disturbed to see the frown on Claire's face as he entered. "What's wrong?"

"I wish I knew," she muttered. "Look." She pressed a few keys and the monitor split, showing two separate images. "This is Alyx's normal readout," she pointed to the image on the right showing a colorful image of Alyx's brain, "and this is the current one." Claire didn't need to tap the monitor, the difference was obvious even to him, but he had no idea what it meant. "Her neurotransmitter level is still within the norms. Her norms." Claire amended. "But somehow the drug is interfering with the signals that control her abilities. Near as I can tell they should still work, she just can't access them. This drug was designed to target the pineal gland and alter how it functions. Somehow."

"So find out how." Darien thought it was the obvious thing to do.

"I would need the files on the project. How they created it. What they intended it to do. All of it. And somehow I doubt the SWRB would be willing to part with the information." Claire changed the screen back to the current information. The CT machine was still running, still gathering what information it could. "Alyx, try and quicksilver, would you?"

"No problem," Alyx snarled making it evident she was getting impatient with being stuck where she was.

As they watched the readouts, they could see the various areas of her brain flaring to life as she tried to trigger the quicksilver.

"That worked, but it was lots slower than normal," Alyx called out to them.

"Okay, now try and talk to Darien." Claire watched the monitor and saw no change. "Alyx, are you..." She was cut off.

"Yes, damn it. I am." Darien stepped over to where he could see Alyx. Her hands were balled into fists.

"Okay, Alyx. Just relax now. I'm nearly done." Claire looked at Darien, who was rubbing the back of his head in discomfort.

"Why not just give her the counter? She can beat on the guy for a while then." Okay, so he was letting the little voice in the back of his head make that suggestion, but he did kind of agree with it. At full power, Alyx could get pretty much anything they needed from the Director, even without having to read his mind. It's amazing how quickly some perps talked after just one little shock from her.

Claire tapped the desk with one fingernail. "I've considered it, but I think it would be a mistake."

"Huh? Why? He said it would counter the effects." Darien didn't like to think that Alyx might be forced to suffer through this till Claire solved the problem.

Claire pulled Darien further behind the wall separating the computers for the CT machine itself and lowered her voice. "We now know more about Alyx, thanks to Traci and what little information Michael tracked down. Remember when she came back, because of the quicksilver inhibitor?"

"Yeah, you just gave her a booster to get her levels back up." Darien remembered the incident vividly. Hard to forget a red-eyed Alyx collapsing on his doorstep.

"We now believe that was a mistake." Darien looked at her in confusion and she continued. "She was designed to adapt. By giving her the booster, we preempted what her body was trying to do on its own. We now think she would have corrected the problem on her own, eventually. Like with the catalyst." Claire frowned. "What we did has made her somewhat dependent on the QS booster in the event of a problem. We'd have to recreate the entire scenario in order to correct it, and that's not something I'm willing to do."

Darien thought about that for several minutes and felt the blood drain from his face when he realized what she meant. "You mean she'd end up like me. Dependent on her own counteragent for her sanity."

"Yes, Darien. It's ingenious, in a way. Near as I can tell, they would even be able to control how much she could do by varying the amount of drug they gave her. A full dose would give her full control at full power, but only for a limited time as she burned away the counter. With her reaction to being truly sense-blind, it would be very, very effective in controlling her." Claire was being frank, but there seemed to be an undertone of pleasure, like she was impressed with this creation that was slowly driving Alyx into a clinical madness. "Add in the effect of the sense-enhancement drug, and she would be effectively isolated and completely dependent on her Keeper for just about everything."

"Claire, you wouldn't...." Darien tried not to sound upset, but wasn't sure he succeeded.

"No, Darien. How could you even think that?" She truly sounded offended that he'd even hinted that she might try to control Alyx through drugs. "In fact, the Official wants me to solve this so that she has full control back. Even he doesn't want to force her to stay here, especially like this."

That surprised him. Considering everything the Official had done to get her here and the problems he'd had, what with her running off and all, the Phase III programming, the time it took to put her back together, for him to say he didn't want to control her was.... astonishing. "So, what do we do?"

Claire cleared her throat. "We do nothing, and hope she adapts like she's supposed to."

"And if she doesn't adapt? If she goes insane instead? What then?" There was a touch of anger in his voice.

"I don't know, Darien. I don't know." They stared at each other in silence until the computer signaled it was done.

Bobby frowned at the Director as he paced back and forth in the padded room. At least the guy had stopped shouting and demanding to be released, but Bobby left the speakers off anyway. There was nothing to hear and nothing he wanted to say. When he'd informed the Official that the Director was awake, there had been little to say. At a guess, the Official was still trying to pull whatever strings he could to prevent the Agency from being dismantled over this little fiasco. Two super-secret agencies battling behind the scenes, calling in favors left and right to get control of a single agent, who was not very fond of being controlled to begin with.

Claire came into the viewing room then, carrying a small bag as well as paper and a pen.

"Hey, Keepy, how's the kid?" It had been several hours since the kid had been brought in and he hadn't heard word one about her.

"Not good, Bobby, and she's going to get worse." Claire moved closer to the window, watching the man on the other side. His hands were still cuffed behind his back, and blood from a small cut on his cheek had dried, leaving dark red streaks across his face. "I need to speak with him."

"I don't know, Keepy. This guy is dangerous." Bobby wouldn't allow Claire to put herself in danger. She was too important to both the kid and Fawkes, never mind to himself. Without her, the quicksilver project might very well fall apart.

Claire turned to look it him. "No choice, Bobby. He has the information I need."

Bobby nodded in reluctant agreement. "Not alone, though." When she nodded in acquiescence, he moved to the intercom and called for a couple extra agents, telling them to arm themselves with shock sticks. No matter how much he might want this SWRB guy dead, he knew it had better not happen, or a lot more than his ass would be on the line.

So it was four of them who walked through the door to the padded room. The Director turned to face them and knew instantly they were not there to release him. The Official was actually going to continue with this farce, thinking it might sway him or his agency into backing off on the matter.

Bobby spoke. "Sit. The Doc here wants to check you over."

The Director considered for a moment, and decided to go along with it for now. Sitting carefully on the padded bed in the center of the room, he followed the brisk directions of the Keeper -- yes he did know who she really was -- as she examined him and cleaned the cut Fawkes had made on his cheek when he'd pistol-whipped him.

The fact that the girl had stopped Fawkes from pulling the trigger with just a few quiet words made him realize another mistake had been made. It was obvious now that the two were more then just partners -- lovers, most likely, and probably with the Official's approval. While Fawkes' talent was artificial, it was entirely possible that the girl's could be passed on to her children.

That would be an interesting experiment, and the SWRB wouldn't need much, just a few of her eggs to play with. They could even implant the embryos in a few of the females they already had, and see what the results would be. Maybe even add a few of their own additions, and possibly succeed in those genetic experiments that had been giving several agencies trouble over the years.

His focus swung back to the present when Hobbes poked him with the non-functional end of a shock stick to get his attention. "What?" he snapped.

"The doc asked you a question. I suggest you answer her," Hobbes said with a frown. They should have the upper hand in this matter, but the mook was acting like he was still in charge.

The Director's focus swung to Claire. "I'm afraid you'll need to repeat your question."

Claire eyed the man, not trusting him for a second. "I want you to tell me exactly what you were trying to achieve with the drug you shot Alyx with, aside from control, that is. I need the breakdown of how it works, chemical components, everything."

He looked at her, stunned at her audacity for a moment, and then chuckled. "To begin with, though I may be in charge, I have no reason or interest in memorizing every detail of how our... experiments work." He pushed himself to his feet, causing Claire to back away a couple steps and Bobby to move closer, to protect her if necessary. "I think perhaps we could come to an arrangement. I have something you want... you have something I want. Tell your Official I'd even be willing to have the job done on neutral territory to guarantee her safety." He walked into the far corner, the one spot that could not be seen from the viewing room. "I would recommend haste. There will come a point when even the counteragent I provided will have little effect and more drastic measures will be needed."

The Official's voice was suddenly in the room. "What do you want?"

"Same thing as before. I need that information; she can get it. You know the other methods have failed." He didn't move from his spot out of sight in the corner. He did watch both Agent Hobbes and the good doctor carefully, but they gave nothing away, their expressions neutral. When there was no response, he pushed a bit harder. "Do you really think you'll hold onto Fawkes if you lose her?"

Bobby took two steps towards the Director with a look of dark anger on his face, but the Official's voice stopped him. "Hobbes, back off."

Bobby's head snapped around to look at the mirrored glass. "Chief, just a little beating? It might make him more cooperative."

The Director laughed.

"Clear the room, Hobbes," the Official snapped. After a moment to grind his teeth in frustration, Bobby, with a light hand on Claire's back, left the room, followed by the two agents, leaving the Director alone again. Going into the viewing room, he looked questioningly at the Official.

"Doctor, how badly do you need that information?"

Claire shrugged. "How badly do you want Alyx functional?"

The Official nodded and turned back to the microphone. "I will consider your offer."

"Not for too long, I would hope." The Director moved to stand before the window. "I suspect time is swiftly running away from you." Then he turned his back on the glass and moved back out of view.

Turning off the microphone the Official spoke to Claire. "You suggested she might get through this on her own; how likely is that to happen?"

Bobby could tell the Keeper wasn't very confident even before she answered.

"She may very well regain full functionality on her own. Whether or not she'll still be sane when it happens is the real question," Claire answered honestly. They all knew how fragile Alyx's psyche could be, and this was definitely not one of those things she could handle well.

"What about that counteragent he had?" Bobby suggested.

Claire shook her head. "Not unless there is no other choice. And in truth, I think she'd rather go insane than become dependent on a drug for her sanity."

Bobby didn't like the sound of that. "You mean she'd become like Fawkes? Needing a shot every week or so to stay sane?"

"More often than that, I believe. Every two to three days, at a guess. She'd build up a tolerance in a matter of months, and we'd be right back where we are now." Claire ran a hand through her hair in frustration.

"No," the Official stated. "If what we think we know about her is true, she'll adapt. Do what is necessary to get her through this, but the SWRB's counteragent is not an option."

Claire nodded while Bobby hid his surprise. He'd half-expected the Official to be glad to find a control that worked on the kid, and was oddly pleased to hear the Official say he wanted no part of it. "We'll do what we can, Chief."

"Good. Now I have to go sell my soul to resolve this issue." The Official glanced one last time into the padded room before leaving to go pull more strings to get out of this corner they'd been backed into.

Claire sighed and leaned against the wall. She looked exhausted and Bobby wished he could do more to help. "Claire, you need to get some rest. Go crash in the kid's office, if nothing else. She won't mind." He moved closer to her, one of his hands sneaking into hers and squeezing gently. "Maybe I'll join you in a bit."

That earned him a small smile. "I still have things to do, but... maybe. Give me an hour and I'll let you know. All right?" She sounded unsure, both of herself and his reaction.

"Keepy, if you join me, I can guarantee you'll relax for a while." He gave her that wicked smile that he knew could break down her resolve on almost anything, and threw in an eyebrow wiggle for comedic value. It was effective and she laughed, some of the tension already easing from the lines of her body. He stepped closer and kissed her lightly, feeling her relax even more, responding to the slow movement of his lips against hers as well as the hand that had snaked behind her neck to draw her closer. When he released her and backed away, she stared at him in astonishment and obvious desire. That very nearly drove him to kiss her again, but being at work and all kept him reluctantly in place. He loved it when that veneer of scientific objectivity melted away and revealed the woman beneath.

"Bobby," she got out a bit breathlessly.

"Work, Claire. The kid. Fawkes. Remember?" he teased and she smiled again.

"Yes, of course. I'll talk to you later, Bobby." She freed her hand from his with great reluctance and gathered her things before leaving the viewing room.

"Ummm, yeah, Keepy. We'll 'talk' later," Bobby muttered to himself as he turned to look back into the padded room. Flipping a switch, he started the recorder just in case the bastard had anything he wanted to say for posterity. He could have dimmed the lights, but, even though he was pretty sure the guy was torture-resistant, he left them on just to annoy him. Maybe lack of sleep would make him a bit more cooperative. As he left, he made sure the agents who'd be guarding the room were prepared for just about any contingency, and knew to contact him and not the Official if there was a problem.

Heading to the Keep, he thought he'd see how Fawkes was doing in person. He found his partner pacing back and forth on a pair of crutches, while Claire cajoled Alyx into allowing another blood sample to be drawn. "Hey, partner. Why the big secret about the upright thing?" he asked, hoping to distract Fawkes from his worried pacing.

Darien stopped and lowered himself into the nearest chair, as his legs weren't in the mood to hold him for much longer. He was getting very tired, and his headache was beginning to seriously steal his focus. "I wanted to do it on my own. That's all." Well, it was a partial truth at least.

"Maybe not the best move, Fawkes. You had the kid so worried she's been snooping around the SWRB to find anything she can to keep them away from you." Bobby kept his voice low and hoped Alyx wouldn't overhear. "You gave her back the ring and then tossed her aside. Not the most brilliant of tactics to keep a woman."

Darien rubbed the back of his neck and took a moment to calm down, instead of getting to his feet and shouting at Bobby, which is what he wanted to do. He was having a hard time hiding his irritation from everyone, but luckily they were so worried about Alyx at this point they'd probably log any lapses off to his being upset instead of thinking it might be the gland. "And what could she have done to help, Bobby? Walked for me?" That came out harsher than he'd intended. "She had work to do, with you."

Bobby took a step back. "Fawkes, you all right? 'Cause if I didn't know better I'd say you were in need of a shot right about now." He looked his partner over carefully, but when there was no witty or snarky comeback to his commentary, he let it slide. Fawkes was probably feeling a bit guilty about keeping the kid away, as well as being worried about her now. Not the best combination to induce calm, rational discussion. "Look, it's done, over with, water under the bridge.... You aren't planning on letting her get away, are you?"

"No, Bobby, not so long as she'll put up with me. I had to figure out a few things is all," Darien answered quietly. True enough, though he had found it very difficult to go through everything alone. Claire had been as supportive as she could be, but she was also his doctor. She'd been the one putting him through the ringer, just so he could manage to walk a few steps unassisted after only a couple of weeks. She was the one who'd strapped the electrodes to his legs, zapping him with electricity to teach him how to walk again. The one who had listened to him bitch and groan about how much it hurt, even while he was silently thanking her for putting up with him. She had told no one, at his request, except maybe the 'Fish, though he'd expected that. She had also come over several nights a week to run him through even more torture, so that he could walk that much sooner. And all so that he'd be able to face Alyx and apologize for everything while standing on his own two feet, and so that there was, maybe, a chance he could stop whatever was coming.

Well, it was looking like he'd failed all the way around. Instead of keeping his distance so that he could regain some confidence, he should have just accepted her help, allowed her to comfort him, and perhaps comforted her a bit as well. When she had stopped by to see him, or talked to him here at work, he'd made a point of being very noncommittal about anything, acting like he didn't desperately want her by his side, like he didn't want her help, or even her. And now look at what had happened -- she had worked herself so hard that she'd put herself in harm's way to protect him, and now she was the one who needed help.

"Crap," he muttered mostly to himself. "I hate when I screw up."

"Fawkes, you should be used to it by now," Bobby said with a straight face. "The rest of us are."

"Gee, thanks, partner," Darien gave him a smile, even as he tried to ignore the pounding of his head. "Claire, you done with her yet?"

There was the sound of glass shattering and the gurney suddenly rolled at them. Bobby caught it before it could crash into the row of computers lining the table. He turned to look at Darien. "I think she's done."

Claire came out then, looking flustered. "Quite done. I want her to stay here. I'm going to run a few more tests." She looked back over her shoulder as something else was slammed rather violently and noisily by Alyx.

"I'll stay with her." Darien didn't bother waiting for her to ask. "Though sustenance would be nice."

"I'll handle the food," Bobby offered. "I need to baby-sit our friend from the SWRB, anyhow." He rubbed his forehead. "It's gonna be a long night."

Alyx stepped out where they could see her. "You have no idea, Bobby. No idea at all."


	12. Chapter 12

Part XII

The oddly pleasant dream -- wrapping his fingers tightly about the throat of some half-seen stranger in a room of glowing white -- was interrupted by the sound of something being smashed over and over again into the steel door of the Keep. Darien jerked into a pain-filled consciousness with his hands tightly balled into fists, his head throbbing in time to his heartbeat, and his legs aching from all the time spent vertical the previous day.

He pushed himself into a sitting position, wanting to yell at the idiot who was making the steel door ring like a cracked bell over and over again. Bad enough he was awake; no need to disturb Alyx, who'd fallen into an uncomfortable slumber only a few short hours ago. He shook his head, trying to clear the last vestiges of the dream and to push back the pain enough to be able to think. He slowly uncurled his fingers, which had been so tightly clenched that they had cramped; his neatly trimmed nails leaving crescent shaped marks in his palms that were nearly bloody. Looking about, he realized Alyx, who had been curled against him when she fell asleep, was gone.

"Alyx?"

The whimpered sob that answered him was easily recognizable and he forced himself upright to go in search of the owner of the voice. Alyx was slamming one of the lab chairs into the door, over and over again, hard enough to put a noticeable dent in it.

"Hey, what's the problem?" He was confused as to why she would be hysterically beating on the door when she could simply trigger the remote and open it.

She spun about and threw the chair at him, causing him to dive to the floor and wince at the sound of the chair smashing into the shelves behind him. "Stay away from me!" she shouted at him, much to his astonishment.

"Alyx?" He painfully got to his feet and walked towards her, hoping he wouldn't set her off again.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Her back was against the door and she was looking about in fright. "Please, just let me go home." she pleaded. "I need to get to my kids. I can't leave them with him."

Her kids? Was she talking about her husband? "Alyx, your kids are fine. Jess...." He had trouble saying the bastard's name. "Jess is dead, remember?"

She burst out into hysterical laughter that devolved into a snarl. "You bastards. You just won't stop, will you?" Anger coming to the forefront, she stalked towards him. "Why are you doing this to me?"

When she had closed the distance between them, she swung at him. He grabbed her by the wrists and tried to restrain her as gently as he could, but it wasn't easy. She was very strong on a normal day, and now she was being driven by some unseen need to escape. Add onto that the fact he was still not very steady on his feet and it was like holding a wildcat while trying to give it a bath. A near-impossible task. Then he let his irritation surge to the front. Spinning her about, he trapped her hands against her chest and held her in place -- one of the few occasions where his size was to his advantage with her. Backing slowly, dragging her unwillingly along, he ended up leaning against the metal stanchion between the two halves of the Keep. "Alyx, damn it, calm down. Jess is gone and your kids are safe."

Her body shuddered and relaxed after several minutes of struggling. "Well, well, Dare, so you got me back here did you? You gonna do something with those hands or not?" She shifted her own arms so that his fingers, which were wrapped tightly about her wrists, rubbed suggestively across her breasts.

Darien had two reactions to that voice, the smooth seductiveness that flowed from her, that sudden boneless relaxation in his hold. Somehow she'd gone from wanting to escape to just wanting, in a heartbeat. A good portion of him reacted to the shift with a surge of pure desire that bordered on lust. The rest of him recognized that tone for what it was; this wasn't the Alyx he knew, this was the one Arnaud and Heilburg had created. What the hell was going on?

She squirmed back against him, tried to free her hands without any real force, and turned her head to look up at him. "Something you want?"

With those words, in that seductive, resonant tone, the gland in Darien's head spoke up with its desire to come out and play with the temptress he now held in his arms. Turning her around, he trapped her hands behind her back this time. Leaning in, close enough to feel her breath on his cheek, he whispered in her ear, "Oh, yes. I want."

She laughed, low and throaty. Rubbing her face lightly against the side of his, breathing in his scent, she purred, "I can tell." She bit down on his earlobe hard enough to make him growl and release her. She stepped away, laughing, as his hand went to his ear. He was amazed that it didn't come away bloodied. "So, why are we here? Planning on stealing the QS files from the Keep?"

"Been there, done that," he said, going along with whatever game she was playing. "We're here because you were a bad girl." Pacing closer to her, he was inordinately pleased that she failed to back off from him. She held her ground and just looked up at him, licking her lips.

"Then perhaps I should be punished," she teased in a low voice. One of her hands grabbed a belt loop on his jeans and tugged gently. "If you think you're up to it, that is."

"Oh, yes. I'm up for a lot of things." He took her hand and moved it to show her exactly what he meant. She had no trouble taking the hint and making him groan with her practiced manipulation. While she was doing her best to drive him to distraction, he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her into a lust-filled kiss that made her chuckle in animal pleasure.

On this occasion, he wanted no part of hurting her, at least not intentionally. It had been nearly a month since he'd had her this close, in this position, and he was so damn close to the madness that his common sense was overwritten, tossed right out the window. He didn't care that she was off in the land of megalomania and was only using him to get ahead in the situation, whatever situation her drug-fogged mind thought she was in. Didn't care that his sometimes harsh hold on her shoulders, the fingers pressing into her back or breasts, was leaving marks and bruises on her overly-sensitive flesh. Didn't taste the blood he'd drawn when he bit her tongue in a moment's insane urge to get her to react to pain.

All he could think of was her hands leaving a heated trail on his flesh, digging in and scratching hard enough to leave marks, reminders of this bout of crazed passion. Of fingers deftly unbuckling his belt and then the top button of his jeans, before stopping and teasing him with fingers dipping delicately inside and making him groan and shift in reaction. He could only respond to the insistent commands of the gland, which wanted her as badly as he did, just without the gentleness and quietly whispered endearments he usually took the time to lavish upon her. Instead he lavished her with his teeth and tongue, making her laugh and cry out in reaction.

Curling one hand in her wild hair, he tightened his grip hard enough to cause a grunt of actual pain. Pulling her head back, he bit her on her collarbone, revealed by the shirt having shifted off her shoulder.

She froze.

Somewhere in his gland-flooded, lust-filled brain, he registered the change.

"Please don't do this," she whispered in a small, terrified voice.

It was as if someone had thrown ice water on him. He instantly felt his control rushing back. Though that voice in the back of his head complained bitterly, he eased his hold and shifted to look at her. Her eyes may have been open, but she wasn't really seeing anything. He recognized the look for what it was, finally. She wasn't even here, was probably still in some weird dream-state, and had been the entire time. "Alyx..."

"I'm sorry," she whimpered, sounding contrite and fearful. "I won't do it again, just please don't."

Somehow he knew she wouldn't respond to him, no matter how many times her called her Alyx, so he tried something else, used the name he'd heard her brother Michael call her. "'Chele, what's wrong?"

She slid out of his grasp and went to her knees before him. "Please, Jess. I... I'm sorry." He was staring at her in utter confusion when she grabbed her head and fell over onto the floor with a quickly stifled scream. Darien was about to bend down to help her when the door to the Keep was forced open and an irritated Bobby stuck his head in. He dropped the crowbar he'd been holding and shoved the door open about halfway before it wedged firmly in place thanks to the beating Alyx had given it.

Claire forced her way past Bobby and went to her knees next to Alyx, who whimpered and tried to get away from her. Claire looked up at Darien, who did his best to explain.

"I woke up to find her beating on the door. She's... I'm not sure, but it's like she's reliving parts of her memory and combining it with the present." He was thankful his shirt was untucked and hung low enough to hide the fact he was not entirely dressed at the moment.

"Bloody hell, I thought those tests were wrong." Claire was trying to calm Alyx. It wasn't easy, since she thought she was somewhere else, thought Claire was someone else. "Bobby..."

"Yeah. The usual one, or has she adapted already?" Bobby moved towards the cabinet where they kept the sedatives they stored for the occasions Alyx needed to be sent to the land of Nod.

"No, the usual one still works," Claire answered as she looked over Alyx. Claire glanced up at Darien and he knew she'd figured out something more had happened than just him watching Alyx go a little loony -- her lips swollen from being kissed, the passion-tousled hair, the clothes in a noticeable state of disarray -- but she made no comment, for which he was eminently thankful. He was saved from having to make any explanation by Bobby returning with a clean syringe and a vial.

Bobby knelt down and took over holding Alyx, who wanted no part of being restrained by a male, much less him, and began to struggle and beg in a pitiful voice to be released. She alternated between asking for forgiveness and pleas to not be hurt.

Bobby was instantly sympathetic. He knew just enough about what had been done to her to at the hands of her first husband to understand her reaction. He talked to her in as soothing a voice as he could and held her still as Claire prepared the sedative and then injected her with it. The site would be yet another bruise to add to the burgeoning collection her far-too-sensitive skin was sprouting. It took longer than normal, but she did finally relax, though she was not completely unconscious. At a guess, Claire just wanted her calm, not out cold.

"Keep?" Bobby asked, wanting to know where she wanted the kid.

"The chair, Bobby." With some help from Claire, they got her moved and secured to the chair. Her hands were placed in the padded cuffs to prevent her from fighting them as Claire did what was necessary. "I need to take another blood sample."

Darien took advantage of their distraction to put his clothes back into proper order and run his hands through his hair, before joining them in the other half of the Keep. Claire was already pulling out the needle from taking the blood and he shied away from the sight of the bruise already forming in the crook of Alyx's elbow to match the one on her other arm. Setting the test tube aside for the moment, Claire gently lifted up one of Alyx's eyelids to find a frighteningly blue eye looking out at the world.

"What the...?" Darien wondered.

"Side effect," Claire said coolly, as if it was expected. Leaving Alyx to rest, half-conscious, she took the blood sample and prepped it for testing. This was going to be a rush job by the looks of it.

Alyx moaned pitifully while both Darien and Bobby hovered over her protectively. "What happened, Fawkes? This was not just her sleepwalking." Bobby knew the signs of desire taken too far, especially since Fawkes was showing some of the same signs. Hell, it hadn't been too hard to figure out he'd been less than fully dressed, even though the shirt tail had disguised it for the most part. Fawkes must not have realized he had a hickey the size of Delaware on the side of his neck, or that his hair was even more unruly than usual.

Darien shrugged, not wanting to admit that he needed a shot, a shot that he didn't want. "One of the... memories was from when she was with Arnaud. She was a bit aggressive."

"Ah," was Bobby's only comment on the subject, though it was painfully obvious that he knew there was more to it than that. "The son of a bitch hinted there might be more to the drug." There were days he wished things were simple, but given his two partners, as well as the agency he worked for, simple was something that rarely happened.

"Bobby, what the hell are you talking about?" This was news to him. As far as he knew, the Director was still unconscious in the padded room, waiting while they figured out what the hell they were going to do.

Bobby sighed and moved over to snag one of the rolling chairs to sit on. He'd been sound asleep when the agent standing guard outside the Keep had informed him that someone was beating the hell out of the door and that they couldn't get it open. He'd gone and found Claire, who had fallen asleep at her desk in Lab Three while waiting for some test results to come back. Once they had confirmed the door was indeed jammed shut, Bobby had gone hunting something to open it with and eventually found the crowbar in a storage closet among some deteriorating mops and cleaning rags.

"Fawkes, the mook implied there was a limited amount of time that the counter would work, so the Keep figured there must be another effect to the drug, she just didn't know what." Bobby ran a hand over the top of his head.

"Damn it. What now?" Darien complained. He wanted to sit, but settled for leaning against the exam chair and running gentle fingers up and down Alyx's arm. She shuddered at his touch, but didn't flinch away. Her eyes opened, and she stared about the room sightlessly for a long moment before sighing and then closing them, the sedative working to keep her reasonably calm.

Claire came back over to them, "Well, I have some idea of what is going on."

"Don't hold back now. This is need-to-know for us." Bobby got to his feet and moved over to her. Claire was looking even less rested than last night.

"Her pineal gland is flooding her system with melatonin, and she's lapsed into a state similar to that of a sleepwalker. I think that she was simply supposed to hallucinate, not get caught up in past memories the way she seems to be doing." Claire's brow furrowed slightly as she thought about it. "These people are such fools, to create something like this with little or no practical information, and then to test it on someone who doesn't come close to falling within the norms...." She trailed off, sounding frustrated.

"Claire, it's done; what do we do to fix it?" Darien could hear the frustration and subtle anger in her voice.

"Nothing. The Official has decreed that I'm not to give her the counter. She has to fix this on her own. Much like you." She looked from Alyx to Darien, pleased to see he was finally rejoining the human race, finally reconnecting with his friends that he needed, no matter how much he refused to admit to it. Maybe together they would both heal, but first Alyx had to get past this stage of the drug.

"Bullshit," Darien snapped causing Alyx to flinch and fight the cuffs on her wrists for a minute. "That son of a bitch has the information, or can get it. We just have to make him give it to us."

"Not gonna happen my friend. The Chief won't trade her services for the info. Says it's too risky." Bobby was hoping to calm Fawkes down, but the look of rage that crawled across his features was unmistakable.

"Maybe he needs some persuasion." Darien kept a tight rein on his emotions, not wanting to give away his true state of mind to Hobbes just yet. A rather wicked idea had come to him and he didn't want Bobby to ruin his fun. "Stay with her. I'll be back." He moved swiftly towards the door of the Keep.

"Fawkes, it won't do any good." But Bobby was too late; Fawkes was out the door and gone. Turning back to Claire, he shook his head. "Good thing I told the guards no visitors. They won't let him in."

Claire nodded her agreement and tried to get Alyx a bit more comfortable as she muttered and mumbled to whatever images her drugged mind was conjuring up.

Darien swung the door shut behind him, feeling little or no remorse for knocking the two agency guards unconscious to gain entry. He had one of their shock sticks in his hand and, as he waited for the Director to notice his presence, stuffed it down the back of his pants and covered it with his shirt. Suddenly he laughed -- he'd actually forgotten he was invisible and that the bastard wouldn't see him until he wanted him too.

The Director had heard the door open and shut, but didn't move until he heard the laughter. Getting to his feet, he looked for the source of the sound only to see nothing at all. "Agent Fawkes. Come to pay me a visit, have you?"

Darien opened his mouth to deliver a witty comeback on the obvious intelligence of the man, only to have it come out as a grunt of pain as the gland reasserted its control over him. He was driven to his hands and knees, one hand one the back of his head in a vain attempt to ease the pain. By the time it had passed, leaving him curled on the floor panting, he was visible and in a very, very different state of mind. "A visit? Yes, I suppose so. I would like a few questions answered, as well." Darien said as he slowly pulled himself to his feet. Once standing, he kept his head tipped down so that the Director could not yet see his eyes.

"Has the Official agreed to the deal?" The Director knew that was wrong assumption the moment he said the words. The Official wouldn't agree, not this soon, not until he saw there was no other choice, that in this situation there would be no backing from the other agencies. And the Official wouldn't send Fawkes. No, Fawkes was here on his own, here because his woman, his lover, was in trouble and he knew he couldn't fix it on his own. So he was here to beg for the solution, for the cure that would return her to normal, to free her from the interesting changes the drugs had done to her.

The Director was not about to give up his control. "So, she's begun hallucinating. Her metabolism must be a bit faster than those we tested the drug on. No matter, you still have some time to give her the counter before...."

Darien moved then, surprising the man into taking a step back. "Before what? Before your little attempt at control kills her? She'd rather that happened." Darien paced slowly around the man, making him rotate to follow his movements. "You mentioned Kev being successful, and I guess he was." He raised one hand and let the quicksilver flow, giving an impromptu demonstration of his talent. "But someone like you thought control would be nice as well. Care to see how successful it was?" He lifted his head so that the Director got a good look at his fully blood-red eyes. "The side effect is interesting. A little extra ingredient secreted from the quicksilver gland acts like a cerebral disinhibitor. I lose my conscience and become a bit irritable and impulsive." He moved closer, causing the Director to back away until he collided with the wall, leaving him with no where to go.

"That's interesting, Fawkes, but does nothing for Miss Silver," the Director countered, hoping to turn Fawkes' mind back to the girl and away from himself.

"True, but it'll feel awfully nice to throttle you while you beg for help that won't be coming." Darien wrapped one hand around the Director's throat and squeezed, just enough to feel the heartbeat pounding on both sides of the man's neck. The smell of fear was a heady intoxicant, nearly as pleasurable as the scent of a desire-filled Alyx before him.

"Fawkes, I'll get you the information you want," the Director lied, hoping to forestall this. When Fawkes only smiled at him, he knew this was going to be a problem. He'd be unable to bargain with the man in this condition, or even distract him from the useless need to cause pain. Bringing up one knee, he attempted to gain at least a momentary freedom only to have the move expertly blocked.

Darien pressed up against him, immobilizing the man and preventing another pitiful attempt like the last. "Sad. So very sad. Alyx has taught me more than a few tricks since she arrived and, if you haven't figured it out yet, I'm a lot stronger than you at this point." He grinned at the look of fear that was evident in the man's eyes. Pulling the shock stick from behind his back he waved it so that the Director could see it. He gave one last squeeze before stepping away. "Alyx has found electricity very effective in getting perps to spill, though she doesn't need a toy like this."

"I won't tell you anything," the Director said as he swallowed around the pain in his throat and tried to catch his breath.

"Fine with me. I just want to hear you scream for a while." Darien flipped the switch to charge the thing and jammed it into the man's stomach, causing him to double over and then go to his knees. The scream was not nearly enough to satisfy Darien, so he repeated the action. This time he got the man in the small of the back, making him arch backwards and fall to the padded floor.

That's when the lights in the room dimmed and went out.

Claire was attaching electrodes to Alyx's forehead when the air in the room suddenly seemed to get heavy, almost thick.

"Keep, what the hell is that?" Bobby asked as his skin began to crawl and the hairs on his arms stood upright, almost as if he had a bad case of the goosebumps.

Claire backed away from Alyx. "I... I'm not sure." The lights in the room began to flicker and then go dim, until they were left in pitch blackness.

"Claire, don't move." Bobby froze as well, listening. Maybe the SWRB was making a move to break their boss out and had cut the power to the building. Though he had to wonder why the emergency generator hadn't kicked in. Moving carefully, he pulled his gun and flicked off the safety. He was hoping his eyes would adjust, but it was pitch dark in here even in what he thought was the direction of the door.

"Bobby..." Claire sounded more than a little worried.

"Maybe trouble," Bobby answered softly.

"Bobby." She was more insistent now.

"Claire." He turned and realized the problem with the lights weren't from an outside cause. "Oh, crap."

"What the f..." Darien didn't get a chance to finish the word as the Director somehow managed to get to his feet and plant a shoulder into Darien's stomach. It caused him to grunt in pain, double over gasping for air, and drop the shock stick.

The Director took advantage of the situation and, with only a moment's struggle, got his hands down past his feet and in front of him. Feeling about, he found the shock stick and held it ready to give Fawkes a taste of the caged lightning inside.

Darien got to his feet with a silent snarl and quicksilvered his eyes. It was almost too dark in the room to make anything out, but there was just barely enough ambient light to allow him some limited quicksilver vision. "Now, just where are you hiding?" Darien slowly searched the room until he saw the figure of the Director making his way along the wall, one hand trailing lightly against the padded surface. "Tsk, tsk. Trying to get away are you?"

The Director continued his movement, hoping to encounter the door, which should be unlocked now that the power was out. He didn't bother even trying to 'see' anything -- his sight was not nearly good enough -- but his hearing... that was just fine. Even though it was obvious that Fawkes could somehow see, the Director could hear him; he was being exceedingly noisy, even though he was walking on a padded surface. As soon as Fawkes was near, he swung the shock stick and connected solidly with Fawkes' side driving the man to his knees. The Director didn't let up until the screaming had stopped and Fawkes was out cold.

Reconnecting with the wall, he made his way around until he found the door. With a shove he got it open and was pleased to find no resistance; in fact, he practically tripped over one of the agents who had been guarding him, but that Fawkes had kindly taken care of for him. Searching the man's pockets, he found the keys and, with a little creativity, had his hands freed in seconds. Getting to his feet, with an increasing feeling of confidence, he made his slow way down the hall, heading for the exit of the building.

"Claire, tell me I'm not seeing what I think I'm seeing." Bobby's gun hand had dropped to his side, he was so stunned by the sight before him.

Claire managed a dry chuckle. "You're seeing it, Bobby."

Alyx was sitting cross legged on the chair, her eyes closed, her hands freed from the restraints and lying loosely across her knees, her head tipped slightly to one side. He had no idea if she was conscious or not, but the machine hooked to her was glowing with an eerie light and showing far more normal waves moving across its screen. Claire moved over to her and tried to take her pulse, but received a shock instead.

"Damn," she muttered, sticking her shocked fingers in her mouth for a couple seconds.

"Is this good, Keepy?" Bobby didn't move closer since he wanted no part of one of the kid's infamous 'zaps.' He'd been told exactly how much they could hurt, and they tended to be worse when they were unintentional.

"I hope so, Bobby. I think she's fighting back." Claire's mind was racing, based on the look she was wearing. "Maybe being on the inhibitor before helped her to figure out how to deal with this. If I'm right, she's adapted far faster than I could have hoped. I was figuring a week at least to reach this point."

"Okay, Keep, but why is the power off?" Bobby had remembered the gun and brought it back up, scanning the shadows around them for possible threats. There was no way he'd let anything happen to the girls.

"Alyx is doing it. They mentioned something like this happening when they gave her the Phase II drugs." Claire seemed to find this most fascinating. "She seems to draw off the energy for some reason."

"Keep, we kinda need the lights," Bobby pointed out. "Think you can wake her or something?"

His request turned out to be unnecessary. The lights came back on with a rush, causing several of the bulbs to explode with a flash of sparks, not only in the Keep but in the hallway as well. Claire moved over to Alyx who now appeared to be sleeping peacefully on the chair. Looking at the machine, Claire was pleased to still see a healthier waveform scrolling across, which meant Alyx was functioning normally for the moment. Whether or not it would last was anyone's guess.

"She okay?" Bobby checked the hallway and found it clear, then returned to where Claire was examining Alyx.

"She's fine, Bobby. Just sleeping. Her body has to burn off the excess melatonin." Claire was smiling, pleased with the situation for the moment.

"Agent Hobbes." A voice gasped from the doorway.

Bobby turned to find one of the agents who were supposed to be guarding the Director leaning on the door with blood running from his nose. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Fawkes happened. He cold cocked us and went in with the prisoner." The guy straightened as Claire came around the divider with a look of concern. She immediately pulled him inside to examine him. "When we came to, he was alone in the room and really bad off."

"What do you mean?" Claire asked as she gently cleaned away the blood and handed the man an ice pack to hold against his nose.

"Well, it looked like he'd been nailed with one of the shock sticks, he was all red-eyed and everything." The agent answered as he gingerly placed the ice pack to his face.

"Ah, shit." Bobby snapped, holstering his gun quickly. "Keep?"

"On it." She rushed to the cooler and retrieved the counteragent, filling a syringe as swiftly as she could. "Watch her," Claire said to the agent as she and Bobby ran from the room.

Darien was lying dazed on the floor of the padded room with some annoying suit jabbering at him and trying to reassure him he'd be all right. Just about the time he'd regained enough strength to seriously consider snapping the guy's neck to shut him up, Bobby and Claire showed. Claire was hauling that big honking needle he hated with a passion.

"Well, if it isn't the cavalry come to the rescue, late, again," Darien sneered at them as he pushed himself to his feet.

"Hey partner. Just sit back down so's the Keep here can give you your shot." With a slight hand motion he signaled for the other agent to vacate, and quickly.

"And if I don't want to?" Darien asked, sidling towards the door of the room, intent on escaping but not wanting Bobby to shoot him in the leg to stop him.

"You don't have any choice, Darien," Claire said to him, in a tone that normally did a reasonable job of convincing him to behave.

"We always have choices, Keep, we may just not like some of them," Darien responded as Bobby moved to block his way to the door.

"You sound just like the kid," Bobby commented. He remembered Alyx saying something similar that night they broke into the SWRB lab. That statement got Fawkes' attention in a way nothing else could.

"Alyx," Darien said, mostly to himself. Oh, how he wanted to finish what they had begun earlier. To strip the clothes off her body, to feel her doing the same to him, to.... His thoughts trailed off as Claire moved up behind him and injected the counteragent into his neck. "No fair," he got out before passing out and falling onto the padding of the white room.

Claire went to her knees next to Darien and checked his pulse. She looked up at Bobby, who signaled the obvious question with just his eyes. "He'll be fine."

"Well, it's a start anyway." Bobby knew fixing the madness was simple compared to what was yet to come for both Fawkes and the kid. There was a lot of healing and recovery to be done all the way around, for both of them.


	13. Chapter 13

Part XIII

The soft hum of the piranha tank pump was the only real sound in the room. Claire had left a couple of hours ago to catch a nap in her own bed, but she would return soon, to make sure the world hadn't fallen apart in her absence, or to check that her two Kepts were still in intact -- for the most part, anyway. Bobby had been in and out of the Keep a couple times to check on the two of them. At one point, he'd taken the time to chew off a portion of Darien's ass, first for being so stupid as to not get a shot when he knew he needed one and then for going to confront the Director, just out of some pissy need to get revenge.

Bobby had reminded him, once again, about the uselessness of going after someone while quicksilver mad. It was one of the rare occasions when Bobby expressly mentioned the fact that Darien had a brain, when he remembered to use it. Which hadn't been all that often lately.

Claire had done the poke and prod routine to Darien and decreed him reasonably well, considering he'd gone into full blown madness, been knocked unconscious by an electric shock, was still learning how to walk again, and was realizing, finally, how important all the people here were to him. And maybe the most important of them all was the sleeping woman on the demented dentist's chair next to him.

Darien was propped across two chairs, situated so that he could watch her and the monitors that she was still hooked to. She'd been sitting in the damn thing for a good three hours now, as her body tried to figure out what the hell it was doing. The power in the building had gone flaky two more times, before things settled into something vaguely resembling normal. Darien had been dozing, on and off, trying to get the rest Claire had ordered him to, but without much success. He'd been more concerned about Alyx. Especially when, about an hour ago, her readings had bottomed back out, suggesting that the drug had kicked back in, once again blocking her abilities. She was apparently sleeping through the entire thing.

Well, she had been, anyway.

Her eyes came open and she shifted, only to wince as the assorted bruises she'd collected in the last twelve or so hours made themselves known. When she focused on Darien, he couldn't help but smile. Her eyes were once again that glorious silver that he'd fallen into so very long ago. "Hey, you." Her voice was scratchy and raw, most likely from all the drugs, or maybe she was simply thirsty. "What happened?"

Darien didn't move from his spot, mainly because he didn't know if she would want him to. "Oh, fun times were had by all." He was pleased to see the slight smile cross her features.

"Liar." She sat up a bit more and started peeling off the electrodes. Not that he was the least bit surprised. She hated being poked and prodded as much as he did, even when they both knew it was necessary. Once everything was removed and set neatly away, she turned back to him. "How are you doing?"

"Me? Good enough. We were a bit more worried about you." He met her eyes for a second and then looked down at his hands, which were laced together on his lap. He wasn't sure what else to say. Things had not gone as he had planned, had hoped, and now he had no idea what to do.

"Ah." He heard her move and lifted his head enough to watch her slide off the chair. She moved over to the fridge and opened it. After a moment of hunting around, she pulled out a bottle of water and hurriedly opened it. Leaning against the cool metal surface, she drank the entire bottle with barely a pause for breath. Tossing the bottle in a nearby trash can, she sighed. "Dare.... Darien, what are you doing here? You should be home resting or something." She ran a shaky hand through her hair and hissed in pain. Her arms were covered in bruises from the various shots and efforts to restrain her. "Gods, I feel like crap."

"I can imagine." Darien kept his voice soft, betting that she'd go back to the heightened levels of sensitivity soon, if she hadn't already, and he had no idea whether or not she'd have any control. He'd done enough damage in the last day, hell in the last couple of weeks, that he didn't want to cause any more. He noticed she had gone back to using his full name and wondered why he no longer rated his nickname from her, but was afraid to ask. "Alyx, I..."

"So, where's our friend from the SWRB?" She interrupted his question before he even had a chance to ask it.

"Gone." Darien lowered his feet to the floor and slowly stood up. He'd way overdone it yesterday and his little adventure with madness and a shock stick hadn't helped all that much either. He also knew the Keep wasn't going to go easy on him because of it. When she showed later, she'd run him right back through that ringer he'd been going through daily. "He, uh, got out when you killed the power to the building."

She nodded, almost as if she were expecting it, but then said, "Huh?" She had begun to shiver again and slid in a controlled manner down the cooler doors to sit on the floor. "Killed the power?"

"You don't remember?" He walked over to her, unsure what to do to help her. Claire had warned him this might happen. In fact, she pretty much expected it. She was basing her assumptions on how Alyx's body had adapted to the catalyst. Towards the end, she'd cycled through periods of normalcy and periods where the altered quicksilver returned. The periods of normalcy grew longer through each cycle, until everything was back to normal and she was safe to be around again. Claire was expecting something similar to happen this time, as well.

"Last thing I remember is curling up on the floor with you to catch a nap. Why?" She had closed her eyes and was trying not to fight what was happening, but he could tell it was not easy.

"Not important," Darien said quietly as he stood before her. "Alyx, will you let me help?"

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. He wasn't sure what she saw, but she pushed herself slowly to her feet. "Do you actually want to, or are you just feeling guilty?"

Darien never got the chance to answer.

"Fawkes, you awake? The boss needs to see you." Bobby came around the glass divider and stopped dead when he saw Alyx standing there. He grinned, pleased to see her up and about. "Hey, kid. You're welcome to tag along, as it concerns you." He moved closer and Darien backed away to retrieve the crutches. "Nice seeing you mobile."

"Thanks, Bobby. I'm still not back to normal..." She stopped when Bobby shook his head.

"Doesn't matter. You will be." It was one of the few things he had confidence in: that she would get better. "Come on, you two. There's stuff you need to know."

The three of them made their slow way up to the Official's office. The slow pace wasn't because they were dawdling, or trying to avoid talking to the Official; it was that Darien wasn't exactly up to speed walking yet, even with the crutches. Alyx kept having to stop and lean against the wall, or be supported by Bobby, as yet another wave of disorientation hit. Bobby was almost afraid to touch her, given how easily she bruised at the moment and, in truth, she wasn't looking too good. 

Entering the office, they were greeted by a face they had never seen before; both Bobby and Darien were instantly suspicious. The guy was tall, though not as tall as Darien (even if you didn't count the hair), about six foot. He had light brown hair, with blonde streaks through it, like he was the type whose hair bleached out during the summer. He had pale green eyes, which stood out brightly against his California tanned skin. He was wearing a dark suit that he did not look comfortable in, and he was handsome in a quiet way, instead of having stunning looks like Darien.

Alyx ignored him completely, even though he attempted to be a gentleman and help the obviously ill woman to a chair. She sat in what had become her usual spot on the end of the conference table, facing the Official's desk.

"Who's the mook?" Bobby hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the guy, as he too settled into his usual chair.

"Agent Drake, meet Agents Hobbes, Fawkes, and Silver." The Official pointed to each, so their names would be associated with their faces. "Agent Drake is Ms. Prick... ahem, Pritchard's permanent replacement. He was formerly employed by the CIA."

Alyx's reaction to that was expected by both her partners. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she observed the man with a level of wariness that only she could manage. "Goody," she muttered.

They watched as Drake moved to stand behind the Official, much as Eberts had once done, and Ms. Pritchard had never lowered herself to do. The look on Drake's face spoke volumes -- while he hadn't expected a party with balloons and streamers on his arrival, he also hadn't expected the instant distrust from all three of the top agents working here. These were the ones he'd be working with most closely, according to the Official; he had received basic dossiers on all three of the them once he had signed on the dotted line. He'd heard rumors about these three, but the stories were nothing compared to the truth. Duke Montgomery and his unit were lucky to be able to work with them on occasion and, even though this job change was looked upon as a step down by his former colleagues, he knew better.

"Miss Silver, how are you feeling?" the Official asked.

"Oh, just great boss." She swung her feet and shifted her shoulders.

Bobby chuckled. "She's a mess, but still stubborn as hell." He turned his chair slightly to watch her, and she gave him a grin.

"Any word?" Darien was pretty sure the 'Fish would know what he was asking, without going into details.

"Nothing. And it has me concerned." The Official's voice was tight and controlled.

"He's waiting for you to call," Alyx said in a shaky voice.

"Kid?" Bobby saw the way she'd gone even paler than before and had a bad feeling about it.

"Sorry, I still don't feel so good." With those words she lay back on the table with a groan. "Go on." She waved one hand in the air before lowering it back to the wood surface.

"The Director still thinks she'll be given the counter, or has been already." Darien filled in when Drake looked at them blankly. "He's the only source for more, as far as we know. We'd have to call him."

The Official nodded. "But we won't be calling, and they will know she's still alive."

Bobby tapped one finger on the arm of the chair in which he sat. "Boss, won't he get curious as to why we haven't?"

"Crap," Darien muttered. "Can he find out about her project? Who she was?"

"He hasn't yet," Drake answered. "Thanks to Miss Silver, we have copies of both her file and yours," he nodded to Darien. "Most of what they have is based on observation and a few reports from their field agents. We think someone leaked her abilities to them, though it was an incomplete report as opposed to the truth."

"Which is why they think she's only a telepath," Bobby commented. "And I don't think we want him to find out she's more. His requests wouldn't be any longer."

The Official nodded curtly. "Exactly. We've taken steps to make sure her background information is secure and that it cannot be traced back to who she was before coming here."

"Mikey," Alyx got out through the discomfort and confusion her mind had fallen into.

"What about him?" the Official asked.

It was Darien who made the connection. "He was her Keeper, is her brother...hell, they probably know he was here and they could find out who -- what -- she is by tracing his past." This was more than a little frustrating; for all they had done to erase her past life, there were still too many connections still in existence. Too many trails that led to places better left untouched, such as Alyx's kids, and Rachel and Jason.

"Damn," the Official muttered. "Too many loose ends that we can't tie up. We could fake your death again," he suggested in a semi-serious tone.

"Uh, no thanks. Three times is plenty for one lifetime. The next time I 'die', it will be for real and I don't plan on that happening for quite a few years." Alyx groaned and sat back up.

"Alyx, you okay?" Darien saw her eyes, the silver already being leached away as the chemicals in her bloodstream altered the color. It was not a permanent effect, according to Claire, but looked very odd. It looked like she was cycling through the different effects fairly swiftly. At this point, she would not even be able to quicksilver.

"No, but that's nothing new. Boss, why was he after Darien?" Alyx shuddered and closed her eyes, her body relaxing as she attempted to maintain control over both her senses and her sanity.

"Fawkes," the Official said with a slight head motion. Darien got to his feet and sat beside her, gently wrapping an arm about her.

She shuddered harder and then curled against him, using him as a focus for her confused mind.

Bobby watched all this with a small smile. Even when they were standing far apart, having to deal with personal conflicts and problems, they still relied on and trusted one another. Amazing. "They had to have been after the gland. Fawkes doesn't have anything else." He saw Darien raise his eyebrows at him. "No offense, partner, but they weren't after your stunning wit, or your hair."

"But why?" Alyx reiterated. "They went to some effort to get me out of the way so they could go after him. Could it have something to do with why the SWRB wants me?"

The Official's look went blank, the perfect poker face. "Drop it, Miss Silver. It is a dead issue. They will not touch Fawkes."

"So they are related." Bobby met the Official's glare with one of his own.

"Just once, could the three of you follow an order? Leave it alone!" he roared, getting to his feet.

Alyx flinched at the volume, but held it together. Pulling out of Darien's hold, she stood. "Dare we?" she asked in a restrained voice. The anger was just in the background. "When you haven't called to bargain by tomorrow, what do you think he's going to do? Do you think he's just going to 'leave it'? Or do you think he might very well try and break in here to kidnap me instead? I can almost guarantee the next step for these drugs involved a long bout of unconsciousness."

"Sir," Drake broke in.

"Shut up, Eb...Drake," the Official shouted at the man in frustration. "Miss Silver, I am doing everything I can."

"Will it be enough, though?" Darien asked, setting a hand on Alyx's shoulder as she began to sway in place.

"Boss, we need something on them," Bobby added. He was sure the Official was going to explode at them for arguing with him, but instead he sighed and sat back down.

"Or we just give them what they want," Alyx suggested.

"Miss Silver, that is not a viable option. I know what this 'job' would entail." He rubbed his forehead with one hand before continuing with some reluctance. "You refused to go into the mind of de Fohn, because of his mindset. The person they want you to get the information from is worse than Arnaud, by far, as well as being insane. I will not allow it, understand?"

Alyx stood still for a moment and then nodded. "Then what?" She sat back down on the table.

"I'm working on it," was all the Official could tell her. They were all quiet for several minutes, no one quite sure what to say or suggest. "Drake, escort Miss Silver back to the Keep. I need to speak to Fawkes and Hobbes."

Alyx shook her head. "No, thank you. I can make it on my own." It was obvious that she wanted no part of this 'former CIA agent', no matter how personable he seemed. Neither Bobby nor Darien could fault her. They'd both had some rather rough times dealing with the CIA, and trusted them about as far as pigs flew unaided.

She took a deep breath and headed for the office door, where she paused to look back at the Official. "Charlie, get this dealt with, or I will." Then she was gone, the door shutting quietly behind her.

"Charlie? How come she can get away with that and not us?" Bobby asked of Darien, who had moved to sit beside him once again.

"Umm, maybe because she could steal every secret he knows out of his mind if he pisses her off?" Darien answered in a serious tone.

"How about because we have an understanding," the Official commented to get their attention. "Drake, Miss Silver managed to get into the SWRB system. You have a reputation for being able to get into anywhere; let's see what you can really do."

Drake nodded, moving to the computer set up in the corner of the room where he started pressing keys. "What am I looking for?"

"The solution," the Official answered.

"Blackmail would work," Darien added, knowing it was true.

"How about a bigger stick?" Bobby suggested. When Darien looked at him oddly, he said, "You know, 'walk softly and carry a big stick.' We just need one bigger than the SWRB's."

"Hobbes, sometimes you amaze me," Darien said to him with a headshake. "Blackmail material may not be in their own system. You may have to look under other people's rugs to find the dirt."

"Good point, Fawkes. And one thing they generate is large quantities of dirt." The Official was nodding in agreement. "Drake...."

"On it, sir. I'll do my best," Drake answered as he turned his focus back to the computer.

"You'll do better than that, Drake," Bobby growled in a soft voice. "Or you'll be answering to me."

Darien chuckled quietly. When Bobby went into protective mode, he ran roughshod over anyone and everyone to get what he wanted done, done. "What about us?"

"Fawkes, you'll get well for the moment. If I have a specific need for you, I'll inform you, but seeing as you can barely walk, I think we'll go easy on your talents for now. Hobbes, I want you to find out what they've been doing. If they have been following Fawkes and Silver, they've left a trail. Find it." Bobby nodded and got to his feet. "I need everything I can get. Don't fail me."

"I won't, sir." Darien watched as Bobby got to his feet. "I'll call you later, partner."

"Go, Bobby. I know you have this sudden urge to check 'Hobbes-net'." Darien waved his hand at Bobby, who hesitated a moment before bolting from the room. He already had an idea of where to start.

"Darien, I mean it. I want you well." The Official was able to surprise him yet again by actually sounding sincere.

"Sure, boss. Give me a couple of weeks and I'll be back to my old self and finding new ways to annoy you." He got to his feet and shoved the crutches under his arms.

"Good. Now get out of here. We have work to do," the Official grouched. The moment of awkward fake bonding over, Darien walked out of the office and could already hear the Official shouting at someone on the phone.

Since it was a good bet Alyx had not gone back to the Keep, Darien headed to her office and found her there. She was looking out the window, staring at the cars passing by on the road below. She'd changed clothes and her hair was damp; at a guess, she'd co-opted the shower and cleaned up a bit. Understandable, considering everything she'd been through. Poking his head inside, he asked, "Can I come in?"

She didn't turn. "There was a time, not all that long ago, you wouldn't have felt the need to ask." She opened the window allowing the cool breeze coming in off the Pacific to sneak inside, lifting a few stray curls of hair. She wrinkled her nose at some scent she'd picked up and sighed. "Is it over, Darien? Do you really think I'm just like all the rest?"

"Ah, hell, Alyx." He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He leaned the crutches against the wall and moved over towards her, but as soon as he got near she slid away, putting distance between them. Now it was his turn to lean against the window and look out at the traffic below. "No, and I'm sorry I did. I..." He stopped, slumping his shoulders he turned to look at her. "Sometimes, some days, I still feel trapped here."

Alyx just stared at him, and somehow he knew what she was thinking; it was an interesting perspective. "But not anymore."

She shook her head, not understanding him, but also not asking him to explain. "Darien, you made your decision, for whatever reason, but it has nothing to do with us or with why you're upset with me." She raised a hand to temporarily forestall any comments. "And right now, I'm not feeling well enough to deal with it." She stumbled, the raised hand going to her head in reaction.

Darien was at her side, supporting her, even as her legs gave out. "Damn it, Alyx." With some help from her, he got her seated on her sofa. "I was, and am, a fool."

"You just figuring this out?" she mumbled as she tipped over, lying with her head in his lap.

"Gee, nice to know you care." But he was smiling at her.

"Always. Can't help it," she whimpered. "I hate this. I'd rather be blind."

"Hmmm, I seem to recall a time when you would have given all this up in a heartbeat to go home." Darien wasn't saying this to be mean or to hurt her. He knew it was true.

"I am home, Darien." She tried to sit up, but he held her in place. "Damn it, let me go," she snapped at him.

"No. Not till we talk." He didn't want to hurt her, and suspected the hold he currently had on her was causing more than enough pain already. "Please?"

"Why? What can I possibly say to convince you that I'm here as long as you want me?" she closed her eyes and shivered. "You haven't believed me in weeks, and right now I can't show you."

He didn't know what to do, what to say. For some reason he'd once again lost the ability to speak and part of him wished she could feel what was going on inside of him. There were times he got tongue-tied simply because he felt too damn much to even try and put it into words, but right now he was still confused on several levels. He wanted her to stay, with him, but still wasn't sure he felt worthy of it, or whether she even wanted to at this point. "I'm sorry, Alyx."

"I know," she mumbled as her eyes drifted shut.

His hands traced gently along her face and she relaxed further even as she shook all the harder. "Easy. I'm here." She shifted suddenly, surprising him with how fast she moved, and ended up on her knees facing him, his hand held in hers. "Ummm, shouldn't you be resting?"

"No, I should be trying to deal with this. I should be trying to learn not to panic just because I'm suddenly normal, because I'm suddenly just like every other person on this planet and can't feel every damn thing around me." She leaned in closer to him. "Why should I miss these... these abilities, when all they do is isolate me from the rest of humanity?"

"I don't know, why?" Darien wasn't entirely sure of her point, or if it was even her talking. Her eyes were still only tinted with the vaguest hint of blue, so he was pretty sure she hadn't cycled into the hallucination portion of this experiment. She moved his hand so that it was resting on her shoulder. When he tried to move it away, she held it in place. "Alyx, I don't want to hurt you."

"Doesn't hurt, feels wonderful," she murmured, her eyes closing.

That was not the reaction he was expecting. Her hand dropped, freeing him to move his away, but he found he couldn't. He wanted to touch her without the crazed urging of his id egging him on, realizing that he had missed her, that he needed this contact almost as much as she appeared to. His fingers just brushing against her skin, he slowly trailed them along her arm. Even this light contact left momentary marks on her skin, but they faded quickly and didn't seem to bother her in the least. In fact, it seemed to be doing the opposite -- calming the shivering that she otherwise had very little control over.

"So, you really can't 'feel' anything?"

"I can feel what you're doing just fine," she said, sounding breathless. He realized that there was definitely an unplanned reaction going on. Unplanned by him, anyway. She might very well have had every intention of having this occur, and he found himself wanting to be drawn along with it, with her.

Damn it, this wasn't fair, but he wouldn't take advantage of the situation no matter how much he wanted to, or how much she seemed to want him to. "Alyx, I meant you can't read me anymore."

Her eyes snapped open. "Darien, you are the one person I make every effort not to read."

Darien blinked at her. Given what she had admitted to over a week ago -- had it really been that long since they had been alone together? -- she had once again managed to throw him into confusion. "Umm, what do you mean? You said before you pretty much always knew where I was, how I was feeling?"

"Until you started actively blocking me, yeah, but it was always unintentional. In fact, I do my best to either block or ignore it." She sighed and slumped a bit. "I rely on you too much as it is; I don't need you, your emotions, in the background all the time. It's bad enough that I can't walk into a place without knowing exactly where everyone and everything is. I... I..." Her voice was sounding panicky again, as she focused on what she had lost. She even jerked away from him with a sob, climbed off the couch, and backed away until her desk was between them.

"Alyx, calm down. You're fine." He wondered if this was what claustrophobes went through. He could remember his own long-standing fear of spiders, due to an incident when he was a kid. Heck, Kev had been smart enough to use that phobia on him to trigger the quicksilver the first time. He had used it a lot in those early days until the fear became dulled, till he no longer reacted with instant terror at the sight of a spider even on a TV screen. He'd acclimatized, and Kev had eventually moved on to other ways of increasing his heart rate and adrenaline. He would never be fond of the little buggers, but they no longer gave him screaming heebie-jeebies.

Which gave him a sudden burst of inspiration. "Alyx, I have an idea."

"Great, marvelous. I'm so happy for you," Alyx got out through clenched teeth.

He could see that her fight to hold it together was swiftly becoming a losing one, and it was looking like she was going to need to be sedated again just to get her through it, but if he was right, that was the last thing they wanted to do. Glancing at his watch, he wondered how long it would be before Claire got back; he wanted to bounce the idea off her before suggesting it to a mostly-incoherent Alyx. "Do you want something to help?"

She stood there shaking for a long moment, her eyes losing their focus as the panic returned. He watched her spiral out of control, whimpering softly as she fought the urge to run and slowly lowered herself to the floor. He cautiously walked over to her, not wanting to make her flee or otherwise freak and injure herself. Or him, for that matter.

"I want the counter. I want this over, now. I want my mind back," she pleaded.

"Alyx, we can't do that. We don't want to lose you to them." Darien held his position, shocked almost speechless at her request. That had to be the last thing he would ever have expected from her. From day one, she had been sickened and disgusted by the way the Official and sometimes the Keep had held the counteragent over his head to control him, to make him behave. There was no way she could want to suffer through that hell; she had no way of knowing what it was like.

He stopped that train of thought. She did know, from her association with him. Had done everything in her power to get him off of the counteragent, first with the inhibitor and later with new versions that reduced some of the nastier side effects. And both she and the Keep continued to look for ways to make it easier, maybe even finding a way alter the extra so it no longer functioned, though he doubted that would happen. Arnaud and his little group of mad scientists had done their job very well. So, she did know what she was getting into.

"They would control you, whoever you ended up with, even if it's the 'Fish."

She laughed, with more than a touch of hysteria. "They already do. Can't you see that?" She held out her wrists, bare except for the bruises. "They already do." She got to her feet suddenly. "If you won't help, I'll do it myself."

Before Darien could even hope to react, she bolted for the room. "Shit." Instead of trying to follow her -- much too slowly, given that running was out of the question -- he picked up the phone and dialed the Official. "Boss, we have a problem."


	14. Chapter 14

Part XIV

The red numbers counting down towards zero made Darien groan in dismay. He still had two minutes before the preprogrammed routine would let him slow back down to a walk. After that, he still had another fifteen minutes of this torture before he'd finally be done for the day. He was glad Claire had had him do the weight sets first this morning, since there was no way in hell he'd be able to do it afterwards. He was going to feel like warm Jell-O by the time this was all over. But it was worth it, he reminded himself again. Anything was worth being able to walk.

With an annoying double beep, the treadmill began to slow down, allowing Darien to drop from the light jog to a brisk walk, which felt wonderful in comparison. He wondered how Alyx managed to do this three or four days a week, along with all of her other workouts. The fact that she only slept four or five hours a night had something to do with it, he knew -- gave her plenty of time to fit in an extra hour of sweating and causing pain to herself. Not that he didn't exercise on a regular basis -- he didn't keep in this good of shape without working at it -- but running had never really become part of his routine. Until now.

He still hadn't decided if he liked it, but he had to admit it was working. In the last three days, he'd gone from staggering about on crutches to walking with the aid of a cane. Apparently, getting zapped into unconsciousness had done something useful besides just giving him a hangover. He wouldn't be participating in any marathons, nor running after -- or away from -- the bad guys in the near future, but he no longer needed to collapse into the wheel chair halfway through the day. The Keep had even declared him well enough to drive again. No more having Bobby chauffeuring him around or baby-sitting him in the evenings. Not that he'd been going home all that much.

Alyx had been confined to the Agency building for the time being. It had taken three agents and a tranq dart to stop her from tearing the place apart to find the counter from the SWRB. As it turned out, there wasn't any left anyway. Claire had used it up testing it, trying and break it down and maybe come up with a version that would actually fix Alyx on a permanent basis, or at least relieve some of the stress she was suffering through without making her dependent on it. Alyx still hadn't managed to get through an entire cycle of the original drug without going into a full panic attack and being sedated.

Darien hadn't yet been able to convince Claire that his idea should work and that sedating Alyx was more likely to prolong the problem than really help. Alyx's time when coherent and with her powers was getting longer -- a good sign. Her time spent in a hallucinatory sleep was getting shorter and less nerve-wracking; instead of sleepwalking and acting out memories, she would simply dream vividly. Much easier for everyone to deal with. But the amount of time she spent being super sensitive and blocked hadn't really changed. She was panicking sooner each time, too, though the heightened sensitivity was getting to be less bothersome. She no longer bruised at the slightest touch and had control for the most part.

When she was able, Alyx helped out with the research into the SWRB. Drake, it turned out, was a former hacker for the CIA. He was actually pretty good at what he did, but he did not have Alyx's advantage; she'd been helping him get into places he could never have managed on his own. She didn't trust him, but was willing to work with him to get through this crisis. They had yet to find the dirt they needed. Alyx had suggested wiping one of the SWRB's computer storage systems and blackmailing a stalemate with the data. The Official was considering it, but hadn't yet decided.

The timer beeped, telling Darien he was done. He backed off the treadmill and headed to the mats spread out on the floor. Wiping his face with a towel, he began his stretches. He knew he needed to keep the muscles as flexible as possible, so he made sure to take the time and do it correctly. He watched Claire working over at one of the benches that had been set up in this basement room they'd taken over for his therapy. It wasn't that Claire was ignoring him, but as he had progressed and been able to do more on his own, she'd brought work with her. Today she was working with one of those huge freestanding magnifying glasses and some small tools.

Once he finished stretching, he lay on the floor staring up at the ceiling for several minutes. "Claire, you in there?"

"Yes, Darien. What do you need?" She sounded more than a little distracted.

"Just thought you'd like to know I was done." Darien levered himself up, knowing exactly what she was going to say next.

"Hit the showers, then."

Yup, he was right again. As he got to his feet, he tried to peek at what she was doing, but the little he saw told him nothing. Grabbing his bag, he headed to the communal showers buried down the dark hall from where they were. He had to admit it was quiet down here and no one had yet disturbed them during these sessions. It was weird, almost as if this portion of the building had been forgotten. Well, except by Alyx, who occasionally used these showers herself. She said she found it peaceful, being so far underground and away from people.

Tossing the bag on one of the benches and setting the cane down, Darien stripped out of the sweat-soaked shorts and T-shirt he'd chosen to be abused in today. Digging through the bag, he pulled out the towel, soap, and shampoo he'd brought from home. Padding softly around the tiled wall that separated the changing area from the showers, he failed to repress a shudder of discomfort. There were just too many unpleasant memories associated with showers like this one.

Choosing one at random, he set the various items down on a nearby shelf that was out spray range and then spun the faucet until it was set where he wanted it. He listened to the pipes rattle and groan as the water made its slow way there. The one good thing about this place was the reliability of the hot water, which came in a seemingly endless supply. If it wasn't for the atmosphere of the place he could happily spend hours on here enjoying the steaming water that flowed from the half dozen shower heads.

Once the water had warmed to his preferred temperature, he stepped under the flow and allowed the hot water to pound into his back, attempting to counteract the tension that was quickly building there. Once again, he appreciated the fact that the showerheads were actually set high enough for him to stand under. None of this bending over crap he'd had to deal with in prison. Like that was the intelligent thing to do in that place when buck naked and wet.

He'd swear he could still hear the harsh voices and mocking laughter ringing off the cracked tiles. "Not real," he muttered to himself, wanting to hear a real live voice and not those from his memory. "It's just the past. The forgotten past."

Reaching out, he picked up the bar of soap and forced his shaking hands to produce lather. As he washed the sweat from his body, other memories intruded, more recent ones. These of the shower at the secret lab, the lab where Kevin had put his science fair entry into the back of his brother's head. The lab where he'd gone quicksilver mad for the first time and tried to attack and rape one of the project nurses. Where he'd learned, for the very first time in his life, exactly what lay inside himself.

He looked down at the floor and watched the suds swirl about the drain before being swallowed by the inevitable pull of gravity, an unbreakable force of nature. He could almost feel himself being pulled along with it.

"Idiot," he snapped at himself. "That way lies madness and despair," he intentionally misquoted.

Picking up the bottle of shampoo, he noticed he'd grabbed Alyx's by mistake. Not that big a deal -- he liked the way it smelled on Alyx, liked burying his face in her hair and inhaling the combined scent of the shampoo and her -- though he thought it might be a bit odd for him to be walking about smelling like peach sorbet.

Thoughts of Alyx inspired a hint of a smile and allowed some of the tension to ease from his body. Damn if he didn't miss her. Last night he'd been sitting on his sofa, listening to some music and reading his newest issue of Scientific American, when he'd come across an article he knew she would appreciate. Without thinking, he'd called to her, only to be met by silence. She was still at the Agency, hopefully sleeping, trying to fight off another panic attack at the worst, working feverishly while she could at the best. His evening had gone downhill from there.

He couldn't even call Bobby for company, as he was off tracking down any and every lead or tiny bit of intel he could find. It wasn't easy -- the SWRB were well practiced at cleaning up after themselves and leaving behind not much more than dust.

Realizing he had finished with his hair while musing over things, Darien shut off the water and wrapped the towel hanging nearby about his waist. Not wanting to hang about in here, he rushed through his routine and tossed his stuff back into the bag, picked up the cane and made his way back to the torture chamber. He knew the Keep would still be there, probably not having even really noticed he was gone.

Dropping the bag by the door, he moved over to Claire and stared at the item she was examining over her shoulder. "Whatcha got there, Keepy?"

Claire jumped slightly as if startled, then held up the small, thin, round piece of metal with a pair of forceps, for him to see. He hoped like hell it wasn't what he thought it was. "It's a monitor for Alyx, so I can better monitor her cycle and administer the sedatives at the optimum time. It should reduce the stress of the panic attacks." She failed to notice the look of absolute horror and disgust on Darien's face. "It will be a little different than yours, maybe a flower, a rose perhaps, and it would fade through colors instead of going from one to the other..."

Darien, gently tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention. "What?" she said.

"No."

Claire looked up at him. "What? What did you say?"

"No, Keep. You are not sticking that... thing in her." Darien hooked a nearby chair with one foot, dragged it over and sat down.

"Darien, she is not getting any better and her panic attacks are getting worse. At least with this, we will know where she is in the cycle." Claire sounded resigned, as if this was it, this was as good Alyx was going to get. That either her adaptation ability was nowhere near as good as they had hoped or could not cope with the current problem.

"Claire, listen to me for one minute, okay?" She rolled her eyes, but nodded. "I know Alyx doesn't talk much about what happened at the lab she was originally at, but I seem to recall her saying they kept her on inhibitors to weaken her abilities and sedatives to keep her cooperative."

"Yes, Darien, I know this. I could even give you the list of drugs they used." All right, so her patience with him was low at this point.

"And what they did there basically created this phobia, right?" Darien was hoping he was getting through to her, but she just sat there looking at him. Admittedly, she looked wiped, but she was supposed to be the end-all and be-all of this Agency. She was the one who was supposed to fix things, and yet all she wanted to do was put a band-aid on the boo-boo and hope it went away. "Claire, isn't what you're doing the same thing? Her powers stop, she panics, and you drug her."

Claire got to her feet and turned away from him, one hand going to her forehead. "Bloody hell. I've been treating the symptoms and not the actual problem." She spun around to face him. "I've screwed the whole thing up."

"Claire, stop it. No, you haven't." He got to his feet and walked over to her. "We can still fix this."

"Desensitize her? I'm not sure how well that would work." She was thinking again, her mind running through all the possibilities. "I don't want to lock her in the padded room."

Darien shook his head. "Uh, no. That would not be a good idea." He paced past her to lean against the frame of the treadmill. "I was thinking we'd send her home, like you guys did with me."

"Darien, that's....." Whatever she was going to say vanished as she seriously considered what he'd said. "Not alone -- she's going to need a distraction. Can I assume you'll volunteer?"

Darien chuckled. "Yeah, I think I can return the favor."

"This will not be easy, Darien. She is going to completely lose it at some point and you cannot give her any drugs. Not even alcohol. We need her to cycle through without any chemical support." Claire moved to the desk and began scribbling on a piece of paper. "She should be just ending her normal phase. You should have a couple hours before it gets really bad." She tipped her head to look up at him. "Do you have a plan?"

"Always," Darien answered. "Always."

***

Bobby settled into the chair before the Official's desk with a sigh. The last few days had been an exercise in futility. He'd dug into every corner, nook, and cranny he could find, called in several favors, gone snooping -- both physically and electronically -- into places he knew he shouldn't have gone, and in the end had no more than before. He'd been told time and time again to stay out of it, that sticking his nose into this situation would get him in so deep he'd need a blowhole in the top of his head and one very long straw to be able to breathe.

He figured he'd pissed off one too many people, since the Fat Man had called him back from today's attempt at getting something useful against the SWRB. It was amazing how fast his contacts' mouths sealed shut when he mentioned those four letters. This was one of those 'everybody for himself' situations.

It was the only thing he could think of to do. Fawkes was still working his ass off to get well. The kid was either drugged unconscious or working with Drake on the computer, and since no one knew exactly when she'd crash, the boss didn't want her in the field. In fact, she hadn't left the building in days -- he and Fawkes had gone to her place to get clothes and such for her -- and the SWRB mooks were still watching the place. No amount of encouragement or outright scare tactics had worked to make them leave; they didn't even bother hiding, just parked their guys in plain sight so that the Official couldn't help but know they were being watched.

"Chief, why'd you call me in? I still have leads to check into."

The Official shook his head. "Don't bother. They've pulled rank and given us an ultimatum. We have forty-eight hours to turn her over, or they come in and take her." That he was completely dissatisfied with the situation was obvious. That he saw no way out, as yet, was also painfully obvious, though he did try to hide it. "They have also intimated that they might be better able to control Fawkes, as well as better handle the Quicksilver Project."

"I thought you said they couldn't touch Fawkes?" Bobby kept his voice steady, even though the Official's statement had sent a shock through him. The bastards were threatening to take both of his partners; he would not allow that to happen.

"Hobbes, who do I call to stop them? Their charter allows this, and they don't even have to justify it." The Official sounded almost jealous of the situation.

"Over my dead body," Bobby muttered.

The Official held up his hand, finger and thumb mere millimeters apart. "This close, Hobbes. I got two separate calls about you. That's why you're here. You've been in their sights for two days." He tried to keep his voice neutral, like he didn't give a damn about Hobbes' potential death. Bobby suspected the guy actually cared, though, if only because there would be no one to replace him as a partner for Fawkes, at least not at the lousy pay he put up with.

"So now what?" Bobby asked. Even he didn't want to push the SWRB so far as to be taken out of the game. He couldn't protect his partners if he was dead. Dying to save their lives was one thing, but getting killed just to be gotten out of the way was another thing entirely. If he was going to die, it was going to mean something.

"Miss Silver and Drake have been trying to infiltrate their computers and find something to use against them, without much success. Even if we spread proof through all the news agencies, they would just close up shop, change names, and start over. With their first target for destruction being us." The Official got to his feet and began to pace. "I'm considering the option of a computer virus to blackmail them to a stalemate. Miss Silver knows a few interesting ones."

Bobby considered it. It might work, but it was just as likely to piss them off so much that they'd grab the Agency itself and make them fix the problem before losing their body parts in some oubliette only the SWRB knew about. "There has to be something else."

"Aside from giving them Miss Silver? I'd welcome any suggestions." He had stopped near one of the windows and was peeking through the slats of the wooden blinds. He turned his head as the door opened and Drake walked in wearing a frown.

"Sir, we may have a problem." Drake was carrying a laptop that looked a lot like the kid's.

The Official slid his glasses up onto his forehead and rubbed his eyes. "Well? I don't have all day."

"Oh, sorry." He hit a few keys and spun the laptop about on the conference table so that the Official could see the screen. "As you know, Miss Silver managed to break into one of the SWRB databases and pull up some info before they caught on. Most of it was encrypted, but I broke it after a couple of hours." Drake began to explain exactly how as both Bobby's and the Official's eyes began to glaze over at the tech-head language that flowed from him.

"Drake," Bobby barked, getting to his feet. "The point, if there is one."

"Uh, I think Miss Silver uploaded the formula for the SWRB counteragent, her counteragent."

That got the Official's attention. "I thought she agreed to leave that option alone."

Bobby thought about it. He hadn't been here at the time, but had talked to Fawkes about the incident. "Chief, unless she promised -- actually used the words 'I promise' -- then whatever she said ain't worth squat." That was putting it mildly; the kid was a better liar than Fawkes on most days, but if she used those words, said 'I promise' about something, she stuck by it, even if she later regretted it. Had to give her credit for that; when she made a commitment, she stuck by it no matter what.

"No, she didn't," Drake commented. "And she's been the one downloading the intel. She's been choosing what's useful and what's not, when she's working."

"Where did she store this information?" the Official asked in a resigned tone.

Drake thought for a moment. "Here, of course, and I believe she transferred a copy to her home computer. She's very good at hiding her tracks."

"Damn it." the Official swore and moved back to his desk. "Drake, get the Keeper up here; she needs to be apprised of the situation. Hobbes, find Miss Silver. She should still be in the building."

Drake got to his feet and moved to the phone on the Official's desk to dial the Keep, while Bobby headed to the door. His first stop was going to be Alyx's office. He didn't make it far -- when he opened the door Claire was standing on the other side holding several files.

"Oh!" she said in surprise, as the doorknob was jerked out of her hand and Bobby suddenly appeared before her.

"Keepy, we were just about to call you. Do you know where the kid is?" Bobby, ever the gentleman, moved out of her way and escorted her to the Official.

"Home," Claire answered.

Bobby could just make out some of the words the Official was saying under his breath. None of them were fit for polite company; the 'Fish could swear like a drunken sailor when he wanted to. After a couple minutes of venting, the Official got control of himself and was able to calmly ask, "On whose authority?"

"Mine," the Keeper answered without hesitation. When it looked like the boss was building up to another explosion, she continued. "I screwed up her treatment and it took Darien to point it out to me."

"You, Keepy? Screw up? Didn't think that was possible," Bobby commented with a bit of a grin. His attempt at easing the tension quickly building in the room failed utterly.

"Darien reminded me of what caused her phobia," She looked the Official in the eye and he gave a small nod to acknowledge that he understood what she was not specifically saying. "My treatment choice was only reinforcing it. I realize now it was in some ways worse than just giving her the counter."

"But why let her leave? How can we protect her if she's not here?" Bobby asked the question mainly to keep her from being yelled at.

"Both she and Darien have a pair of discrete bodyguards. You know as well as I that if the SWRB wants to grab her, there's not much we could do." Claire had always been good about putting things in the proper perspective, good or bad.

"Will this work?" the Official asked of her.

"Let her get through at least two cycles and I'll know better." When the Official nodded, she relaxed marginally. "Now, you said you wanted to see me?"

"Drake," the Official barked.

The man started in surprise, not yet used to the way things worked here. "Um, yes. I think Miss Silver may have copied the SWRB counteragent to her hard drive."

Claire nodded, not the least bit surprised. "She wants this over, and all I've done is prolong it. Hopefully the situation will improve and she will no longer feel the need to resort to it. She'd need the ingredients and a lab to create it herself. I think we can manage to keep her from those for now."

"Agreed. Would those files still be of use to you, Keeper?" It was plain that the Official had an idea.

"Perhaps, for study purposes and to judge any potential problems Alyx might have. Why?" Claire appeared uneasy about the subject.

"And Fawkes, how is he doing?"

Claire pushed a stray lock of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. "About seventy, seventy-five percent recovered. I still have him using a cane as a precaution, but his strength is almost back. He still cannot run for any distance, but walking is not a problem."

"Good. Drake, can you find which facility Miss Silver accessed those files from?" The Official turned to look at the man who stood by the computer.

"Yes, sir. Give me fifteen minutes." Drake sat at the computer and got to work.

"Chief?" Bobby was getting curious, now. For what reason would he want to know the facility that the info was stored at? Unless.... "You're sending us in." It wasn't a question.

The Official nodded. "I want that data wiped from their system."

"Why?" Claire asked him, hugging the files to her chest tightly.

"Because if they do find out who she is and follow the trail, they will find Michael, as well as her children. And the drug 'will' work on him." That statement was enough to get all their attention.

"So you want the option to control them instead," Bobby snapped out without really thinking about it. "How is that better?"

"Hobbes...." The dangerous tone was back in his voice.

"Sorry, boss," Bobby apologized without even bothering to try and fake the sincerity. "When?"

"Tonight..." The Keeper shaking her head stopped him.

"Darien needs to be with Alyx tonight. However, if you wait until her next normal period, she may even be able to help, though I would not recommend sending her in." Claire made it quite clear in her tone that there would be no arguing over the matter.

"Fine. When is her next normal period?" The Official wanted this dealt with soon, at a guess.

"Roughly dawn tomorrow," Claire answered. When the Official frowned, she shrugged. "There is no way to be more accurate. It should last for several hours, though."

"All right. Hobbes, contact Fawkes and let him know what's going on. Meet here at oh four hundred and we'll go from there. Drake will keep you apprised of the situation." The decision made, they began roughing out a plan of attack, based on the little they did know. Once Drake told them which facility stored the information they were after -- coincidentally, it was the same facility the kid had broken into that first night of scouting out the SWRB with Bobby -- they were able to fine-tune it a bit more.

What had looked like an impossible task was starting to look like merely a very difficult one. Bobby wasn't sure what getting these files would do for them, but if the 'Fish thought it would do some good, he wasn't about to argue. Bobby would freely admit he had little or no idea of what went on behind the scenes, the bickering and infighting that happened between agencies in situations like this. He did know, however, that unless a miracle occurred the kid was going to end up in the possession of the SWRB and not for just one job. He truly did not want to see that happen.


	15. Chapter 15

Part XV

The sound of waves pounding into the shore was almost drowned out by the joyous shouting of an energetic group of preteens who had somehow managed to escape the confines of formal education for the day. There were far more people on the beach and boardwalk than he had expected at this time of the day, but he had to admit the weather was gorgeous. He'd left the jacket he'd needed this morning in the car and enjoyed the feel of the sun on his bare arms. He even kind of wished he had his swim trunks with him; a dip in the cool Pacific water would feel quite refreshing, and lying lazily to bake in the sun after would be even better.

Instead he was standing in the quietest spot he could find, one hand pressed against his ear to dull the ambient noise while he tried to hear Bobby through the cell phone with the other one. "Yeah, Hobbes. I got it. I'll call you later."

With a sigh, he stuffed the phone into his back pocket and looked over at Alyx. She was sitting on the low wall that edged this section of the beach and provided a division between the sand and the boardwalk of businesses and shops that catered to those who worshipped the sun. He had considered taking her to Kensington Beach, but decided against it. Her sense of smell was a bit too sensitive for that particular patch of sand and stench today. So instead he'd taken her up to Mission Beach near Belmont Park. Yeah, it was a little loud and a little crowded, even for a workday, but it was also a distraction -- just what the doctor ordered. So far, it seemed to be working.

She was stretched out along the wall, her hair pulled up into a bun that the breeze had pulled curls free from. She was anything but relaxed, though. To anyone else, she would appear to be another teen lazing about on a beautiful Southern California day, but to him she looked tense and strained. It wasn't the first time he'd watched her spend time twisting her neck and rolling her shoulders to relieve tension, but usually it was after a stress-filled job and not after spending the morning hacking into databases. Of course, now that he had spoken to Bobby, he knew exactly what information she had gathered and it wasn't very comforting.

For a moment he considered taking off with her -- taking the train down to Tijuana and losing themselves for a couple days. Down there no one would notice, much less care, if she went a little off the deep end for a few hours. As long as they paid for any damages, they could do just about anything they wanted and, who knows, maybe getting out of town, out of the country, would help. Here, they were entwined in the problem, evidence of their unique lives following them, literally. The four agents tried to be discrete, but the dark-toned cars, suits, and glasses kind of gave it away. At least they weren't hovering right on top of them, were giving them a reasonable amount of space so that they could pretend that they were alone. Just two normal people attempting to enjoy a few hours together.

He walked over to her and sat down so that she could lean back against him if she wanted. He contained a sigh of pleasure when she did exactly that. One of his arms curled about her to rest lightly on her stomach. Lowering his head slightly so that she could easily hear him, he whispered. "How are we doing?"

She laughed dryly. "We? Last time I checked, you were doing just fine, whereas I'm looking forward to going into a full-blown bout of the screaming meemees within a few hours. Joy of joys."

"Alyx, would you rather be locked in the padded room? 'Cause that would be coming next." She shuddered in reaction to that thought. He held out his right arm, turned so that she could see the tattoo. "Claire wanted to stick one of these in your arm. So that she could judge better when to sedate you. Is that what you'd prefer?" His tone was harsher than he intended, but it had the effect he wanted. Jerking away from him and hopping off the wall, she spun about to stare at him.

"I didn't want any of this. I just wanted them to stay away from you. To make sure they couldn't use you against me or the Agency ever again." She stood there, fighting conflicting impulses. He could see it, could almost feel it, the need to run away from him, the need to not be anywhere near him. And yet the wanting, wanting to hold him, wanting to help him any way she could. He'd been in the same position himself not all that long ago, but, thanks to her, he'd gotten through it.

"Alyx, let me help. Please." He knew he'd messed this up, messed them up, and he desperately wanted to fix it somehow. He'd been alone for too long and he wanted no part of going back to that condition. That was part of the reason he was still here. Why would he want to spend the rest of his life alone when he could spend it with her? "Calm down, there's nothing here to hurt you."

"Except you," she snapped. Darien watched as she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. "Ah, hell, Darien I..."

"Dare," he said quietly.

"Huh?" She blinked at him in confusion.

"Dare. You haven't called me Dare in ages." He met her eyes for a second before turning away to stare at his feet sitting on the pale sand. A few seconds went by that seemed to be an eternity, and then her sneakers appeared in his line of sight.

"I figured you didn't want me to." Alyx was shivering, he noticed as he lifted his head. "In fact, you seemed to want very little to do with me." She reached out and captured one of his hands. Turning it palm up, she placed something in it. Then she took a small step back and waited.

He'd known what it was even before he looked down at his palm. Closing his fingers about it so he wouldn't drop it in the sand, he asked, "Why?"

"Why?" She shivered harder -- she was quickly moving into the next part of her cycle of fun new experiences, and he wanted to keep her talking, keep her distracted from what he knew would inevitably come next. "You think I didn't notice the way you were acting? I kept hoping you really meant to give it back to me, but it's obvious now that you want me to stay away outside of work." There was no anger in her voice, just a sense of resignation. "Fine. I'll live with it. Can we leave now? I really don't want to lose it here."

"Alyx, you are not going to lose it." Getting to his feet he gently pulled her closer until he was sitting again and she was within easy reach. "Do you want me to take this ring back?"

She shook her head and stuttered, "N... n... no."

"Then why do this? You think I gave it back out of pity or something?" He tried to pull her closer still, but she resisted.

"Guilt," she mumbled.

"Guilt." He shook his head. "Silly, if there was guilt it was because I hurt you, for which I am very sorry." This time she let him pull her near, one of his hands wandering up to her face and caressing it lightly. Her eyes were doing that odd dilation thing where one pupil was noticeably larger than the other. Now was the time to get her involved with other things, to keep her mind off the fact she was locked out from half her senses. He kissed her, a long, slow, teasing kiss that left her shaking even harder and looking at him almost in shock.

"Don't do that unless you're serious." He could just make out the words.

He did what he should have done days before. Showing her the ring for a moment he then slid it back on and then entwined their fingers. "Partners, right? In all things."

"Yes, Dare." She didn't seem quite as relieved as he would have hoped, but maybe that was because of what she was going through. It was time to move her away from the crush of people and to a quieter corner of the beach.

Turning, he stood up on the far side of the wall. "Come on." With his unneeded help, she climbed over the wall as well and allowed herself to be to drawn into a slow walk past the shops and eateries that lined the boardwalk. "How about something to eat?" Claire had asked him to try to get her to eat something. She'd apparently been avoiding food because her sense of taste was so strong that everything was off even worse than before.

She made a face, the thought of food not exciting her at the moment. "No thanks." She stopped and refused to move. "Just take me home."

Darien turned to face her, gazed down onto those eyes where currently panic could be seen, panic and a hint of something else. "So you can memorize the SWRB's counteragent? I don't think so."

"Bastard." She snarled and tried to pull away, but he held onto her hand. Not tightly, just a light grip, one she could have easily broken, yet she didn't. "You have no idea what you're going to make me go through."

"Doesn't matter. Alyx, I screwed up. I let my past influence me and pushed you away." She looked at him blankly, the fear and panic gone for the moment. This wasn't going to be easy; they didn't often talk about their relationship -- usually didn't need to with the way her abilities worked. It just was, and they usually just accepted it as it was, but somewhere along the way he'd forgotten that. Forgotten to trust in her, to trust in himself. And now she was unable to 'know' what he was feeling, so he would have to find his voice and tell her. "Alyx, I need you, your strength, to get through this."

"My strength," she snorted.

"Yes, your strength. Claire and I have been talking. She told me you're the reason I'm standing here now. That you removed the bullet. That you talked her into sending me home. That you've been working non-stop to find out who shot me and why even with your hands tied by the 'Fish." He gave her a wry grin. "You have to be the most stubborn person I know. Why do you want to give in now?"

She tipped her head down and began to shake again. "What choice do I have? I'm no good to any of you like this. At least if I control the drugs I won't feel as trapped."

"It won't work and you know it. I, of all people, should know this. Do you remember your little problem with the N. E.?" He ran his thumb gently along the side of the hand he held and felt her twitch in response to his words. "Or your fight to come back from the Phase III programming? Don't throw all you've survived away over a silly phobia." Her head snapped up and she glared at him. "You don't have to do this alone."

"It's all or nothing here, Dare. You get no more chances. You walk away again and it's over. Understand?" She just stood there watching him with those glorious eyes of hers and he wondered why he'd ever considered leaving her. "Even I can take only so much pain."

"Well, we could get married and settle the issue once and for all." When all she did was raise an eyebrow, he sighed. "Together. We'll do this together." She didn't wait for him to pull her close, simply closed the distance between them and buried her face in his chest. She shook as all her pent-up emotion rushed out. "Shhh. It's all right." He ran his hands up and down her back while her fingers grasped the back of his shirt in near desperation. Even without her leaking her emotions to him, he knew what she was feeling. A sweet yet painful relief to know that things were going to be okay. Not the same as before, never the same as before, but okay. He knew, because he felt exactly the same.

Then his stomach vocalized its need for sustenance. She released him and took a half step back, staring at his midsection and chuckling. "Impressive. Let me guess, you're hungry?"

"Umm, yeah. I'm always hungry. You should know that by now." He began chagrined, but part way through, some other needs -- other hungers -- seeped into his voice, his tone, his stance, and she noticed.

"Oh, really?" she asked him, sounding amused.

Releasing her hand, he cupped her face, running his thumbs across her cheekbones and lips, watching the panic retreat and desire -- that patient, quiet look of need that was always lying in wait and biding its time -- appear in her eyes. It had been too long since he'd seen it there, without the haze of quicksilver madness fogging his sight. Too long since he'd felt he could touch her without wondering if she'd still want him tomorrow, too long since he'd started worrying about where he stood with her. He knew, believed now, that she stood here with him because she wanted to. At this moment, this point in time, that was all that mattered and all that was necessary to make everything right with his universe.

Leaning in, he kissed her softly, his lips just brushing hers and drawing a soft moan from deep within her. Oh yes, this is just what he needed right now and it certainly seemed that she felt the same. Pulling away, he answered her question. "Really."

"Mmmm. Then perhaps we should feed that one hunger so that we can later deal with the other." She grinned at him. "Before more of you starts disappearing."

"Before more...." He looked down at himself and realized he'd lost part of one arm as well as portions of his torso. "Oh, crap." That earned him a round of real giggles from her as she shifted to help hide his current condition until he regained control.

"Ah Dare, I missed you."

Moving to stand beside her he tossed a causal arm over her shoulder. "Same here." He meant the words exactly as he had said them; that he had missed her, as well as himself.

Together they wandered down the boardwalk, in search of something to eat for him and some more distraction for her. The longer she held it together, the better off she was. He knew she would break down eventually, when the panic and the loss became the focus, but she would no longer have to go through it alone.

It was mid-afternoon when they arrived at her apartment, and Alyx was doing less than well. She been near-hysterical by the time they'd left the beach, though she had done her best to hide it. The only thing that had held her together during the drive was the knowledge that, if she did try and run, it would involve hurling herself out of a moving car and into traffic. Not much of an improvement of the situation. He'd had to coax her step-by-step out of the car, into the elevator, and then into her apartment. Once there, she lasted all of five seconds.

Darien had no idea what finally set her off. He got her into the apartment, turned around to shut and lock the door, and when he turned back around she was gone. It took him five agonizing minutes before he found her huddled in the corner between the head of her bed, the wall, and the windows. The only harder spot to get into was the back of her closet, where she'd somehow managed to shove a fair-sized bureau. Not that the bed was right up against the wall -- there was a good five feet between them. It was just awkward. She'd had plants and books lining the windowsill that were now lying on the floor, dirt spilled and pages torn in her hysteria.

For several minutes he just stood there watching her, leaving her be as Claire had suggested. Letting some of the panic find release, before trying to convince her to calm down, that things were fine, that she could deal with this. That she could live with this if necessary. She alternated between huddled upon herself, hands over her ears and eyes tightly shut -- a sure sign she'd lost conscious control of those senses. To staring wide-eyed and unseeing about the room, her breath hitching in her chest, and nearly making herself pass out as she tried to catch her breath and began to hyperventilate instead.

Sitting beside her, he pulled her gently into an embrace, expecting her fight him. Instead, she practically flung herself at him and curled up against him. "It's all right. You're safe."

It took an hour of quiet, calm words and gentle caresses before she came back from that place her mind fled to when she went into a panic attack. His last real experience with her having panic attacks was very early in their association. He couldn't call it a relationship, they hadn't had a relationship back then, though he'd tried. It had involved a harrowing trek through a forest fire she'd been trapped in. He knew that the cause for those panic attacks was different than what had created the current problem and she had, with the help of Maxwell Garrett, faced that fear and gotten past it. He only hoped he could do the same for her now.

The thought of Garrett didn't bother him as it once had -- in fact he owed the man a debt. He had been the first person Alyx had learned to trust completely after joining their little family. The reasons she'd hadn't trusted any of them were as complex as the reasons she'd found herself able to trust Garrett, but in the end she had learned to trust them too. After learning about and dealing with Garrett's death, she'd finally been able to allow herself to face her feelings for Darien. To realize that she didn't have to be afraid anymore, that for the first time in a very long time, she was in control of her own life, heart, and mind.

She uncurled then and lifted her head to look at him. She had a completely stunned expression on her face, like she couldn't believe she'd made it through to the other side. "Dar..." She cleared her throat. "Darien?"

"That's me." He smiled at her. She was still pale and her face was tear-streaked, but she seemed better. "How are you feeling?"

"Wiped," she answered, sliding away from him and standing. "And in need of a shower. Will... will you stay?"

"Sure." He glanced at his watch and pushed himself to his feet. Kissing her on the forehead he said, "You get cleaned up, take your time. I'll see if you have any food in this place." When she didn't seem to be able to move, he set a hand on her back and encouraged her into motion. She made her way around the side of the bed and then froze again. He was about to say something when she bolted for the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her. He resisted the temptation to go after her. He wanted to help, but hovering, doing every little thing for her, would do nothing to help her get through this.

When he heard the sound of the shower running, he swung open the door and peeked in. She was standing under the water with her head hanging down, her back to him, hands pressed up against the tile wall. She didn't even notice his quiet observation of her. Leaving the door open, in case she called for help, he headed for the fridge in search of something to drink. He kinda wished the Keep hadn't banned alcohol; he could use a drink right about now, and it was a good bet Alyx could as well. He pulled out a couple cans of soda, opening one and drinking about half the contents in one long swallow. Even after dealing with her in withdrawal, helping her recover from the Phase III, and many times just helping when she had far more normal injuries, he hadn't been prepared for the current situation.

He'd thought he had it bad just two short weeks ago, when he thought he had nothing to live for. He'd been through so much in the last few years, losing hope over and over, only to find it again, not once but several times. To have allowed something as simple a bullet take away what confidence he'd gained in himself now seemed foolish.

He looked at his left wrist. The seemingly small cut had healed quickly, almost in retaliation for what he tried to do. He knew he had been standing near the edge of that abyss for a very long time; he had just refused to see it. Had just stumbled from day to day, waiting for the next shoe to drop -- for that last piece of bad news that would push him over without him having to do anything himself.

Now, however.... He still stood near that edge, but now, instead of contemplating the long fall, he could look out over the view and finally appreciate it.

His cell phone went off and he pulled it from his pocket. "Yeah," he said, his mind still on other things. "Hobbes, hold on a sec." He stuck his head back in the bathroom, saw Alyx slowly washing her hair, and ducked back out. Going to her door he opened it and stepped into the hallway, leaving the door open just a bit. "Go ahead, Hobbesy. What's up?"

He listened as Bobby explained the current situation, pacing back and forth in the hall with his hand running through his hair. "Okay, if she's awake we'll be there." He paused, listening. "Bobby, if she's still sleeping, there is no way in hell I'm going to wake her." He stopped again as Bobby interrupted, this time he smiled at the concern that was pouring from the gruff and hardened agent at the other end. "I don't know, Bobby. She got through one panic attack already, but I have no idea if she'll have another one. Ask Claire."

Bobby started up again. Darien leaned against the wall next to the door and listened as Bobby went into one of his convoluted tales that supposedly included advice on how to help Alyx with her panic attacks, but Darien didn't understand half of it. "Uh, thanks Hobbes. I'll remember that." He shook his head in dismay at his inability to get Bobby off this track he had firmly planted his feet on. It was someone on the other end that finally got him to stop. "Yeah. Yes. I'll call you later." Darien hung up even as he heard Bobby say something else.

Sometimes Bobby just handed out way too much information. What could a dancing girl from Saudi Arabia possibly have to do with Alyx having panic attacks? And why should he play show tunes? Maybe he'd ask Bobby about it later. On second thought, it was probably better if he didn't ask. Bobby might try to tell the entire story again, and Darien wasn't too sure he wanted to hear it.

He entered the apartment, shutting and locking the door, and tossed his phone on the counter. He could hear that the shower had stopped and went hunting for Alyx. He hoped she was all right; she hadn't called for him or anything, but that didn't stop him from worrying. She wasn't hiding, she was curled up on her side on her bed. Looking relaxed and comfortable in the dark violet -- he had this thing for purple -- silk robe he'd bought her a couple months ago. She'd been the one to turn him on to the pleasures of wearing quality silk, and he had returned the favor by buying her a few items he thought she would like and that he thought she'd look wonderful in.

Kicking off his shoes, he lay down on the bed and set a hand on her hip. "You in there?"

"Hmmm, yeah. Kinda," she mumbled, sounding only partially awake. "My brain hurts."

He snuggled closer, his chin resting on her shoulder. "How are you? Really." She tensed up, which he hadn't intended for her to do.

"Well, everything hurts and I'm trying to keep from flaking out on you again, but other than that I'm find and dandy." There was so much sarcasm in her voice that he almost didn't catch the undertone of fear.

"Hey, no need for that. I can't help if you don't tell me what's going on." He slowly slid his hand lower, along her thigh, knowing that if he went the other way, up along her side, she'd break out in hysterical giggles. So he kept his slow, steady movement in areas he knew were safe.

"Ah damn, Dare, don't do that." She reached up and stopped his hand with hers.

"Hurts again?" Though it had gotten better, sometimes the increased sensitivity still caused pain at the slightest touch. She had stopped collecting new bruises from slight contact, but she still carried those she had earned the first couple of days. Fighting the restraints, along with multiple injections and blood samples, had left her with an interesting collection. Not to mention the ones he'd caused himself when they'd gotten amorous in the Keep. That made him sigh to himself; she didn't know about that. The entire incident was wiped from her memory. As far as she was concerned, she'd slept through the entire thing.

"Not exactly," she answered in a tiny voice, almost as if she were embarrassed.

"Not exactly? What does that mean?" Her damp hair smelled of berries this time. Turning his head he breathed in the scent of it and gave into the temptation to nuzzle her behind the ear. His hand took up its motion again, hers still lying atop it, only more teasing this time, sliding the silk of the robe across her skin. When she moaned, he understood what she meant by 'not exactly.'

"Darien, stop. Please." Though her voice was steady, he could feel the way her heart had sped up. His lips found the pulse point in her throat and just rested there, feeling the blood pound, her breathing become shallow as she tried and failed to control what she was feeling.

"Why, Alyx? Even I can tell you want this as much as I do." Her increased sensitivity had gone from pain to pleasure, or perhaps a bit of both. She shivered as he moved his hand across her stomach and played with the tie holding the robe shut. "Are you worried that because I won't be able to... to feel what you are, that I won't like it?" She stiffened at that, and he knew he'd nailed it. Shifting, he encouraged her to roll onto her back so that he could look at her. "Alyx, although I have to admit that side effect makes being with you a very enjoyable and unique experience, it has nothing to do with how I feel."

"Darien, it won't be the same." Almost reluctantly, one of her hands came up to run along his jaw line. "I don't want to disappoint you."

He closed his eyes and hung his head, shaking with restrained laughter. "Disappoint me? You are nuts." This time he did untie the robe with a gentle tug, but simply ran his hand across the material making her shiver. "I was an idiot to turn you away that night. I realized later that it was me you wanted and it had nothing to do with whether or not I could walk. If your little extras never work again, if you actually get the chance to be a normal person and live a normal life, it won't change how I feel."

He lifted his head to look at her, to try and figure out what she was thinking, what it was she really wanted, but he couldn't be sure. She was right, it wasn't the same, but not in a bad way. In fact, he found the change nice. Instead of instantly knowing what the other wanted, they would have to guess, or ask, or discover through trial and error just like everyone else. For one night, they would have a chance to be like everyone else. Okay, maybe not quite like everyone else, since his lightest touch was enough to make her melt. He fiercely enforced his control, lest the gland were to suddenly decide it wanted to participate in the proceedings.

"Alyx, if you really want me to stop, I will. I don't want to hurt you." He waited for her to decide, without moving anything. It was the hand that still lay against his face that answered the question. Her fingers slid back through his hair to find the scar and ran lightly across it, making him shudder. The damn thing was sensitive as hell, at least when it was her touching it, and drove him to complete distraction. With a groan he sought and found her lips with his own.

Alyx didn't hold back and fell under his spell instantly. They broke apart just long enough for him to divest himself of his T-shirt, before returning to tasting her lips and tongue. When he finally slid the robe apart, to trail his fingers across skin that was nearly as silky as the material of the robe, making her arch and moan into his mouth, he sighed in pleasure.

Moments later, Alyx began to laugh softly.

"What?" Darien asked against her throat.

"New experience, for me." She was breathless, impatient as she tugged on his slacks.

Lifting himself slightly he realized there was no color to his sight and that her outline was glowing with the wrong color. "Crap," he muttered and she just laughed harder.

"Darien, if you let this stop you, I'm going to be quite upset and force you to continue anyway." She squirmed down a bit and kissed him on his collarbone, digging her teeth in gently. "Besides, I have counteragent, if you need it. Though, based on past experiences, we'd have just as much fun without it."

That ended any resistance he might have put up. Grabbing her arms, he held them above her head and did his damnedest to make moan aloud. For some reason he wanted, needed to hear her tonight.

A short time later, Darien was looking down at her again, the quicksilver no longer a barrier between them. "Alyx, I..." His throat closed and he found he couldn't finish the sentence.

"I know, Dare." Her lips brushed against his. "I know."

The room was dark when Darien jerked back into wakefulness. The apartment was dim, the only light that which filtered in from outside. From streetlights, headlights, and stars. He realized that he must have dozed off after their lovemaking. Damn, if it hadn't been sweet. It had certainly been a distraction for her. He'd noticed when the panic had snuck back in, her entire body torn between two impulses. Somehow, the one that left her moaning and breathless beneath him won out; she never actually crossed over into a full blown attack, even after their breathing and heart rates had slowed. She'd been shaking with the lingering effects of the drug and exhausted from their play, but had refused to succumb to the panic. It may have helped that he was lying sprawled across her and she had nowhere to go without first dumping his ass on the floor.

He'd held her gently until the shaking had eased and she had drifted off into an uneasy slumber. He must have dozed off himself while watching her sleep, for he'd intended to get up and make something for them to eat before she went into the next part of her cycle where he body was flooded with melatonin and she was forced into sleep. They were no longer lying in the same position, with his head pillowed comfortably on her chest. At some point he must have rolled off of her to lie on his back and she... well she had curled up next to him, her face up against his ribs, one hand lying over his heart and one leg flung over both of his.

Running his hand through her hair, he tried to wake her. "Alyx, sweets, you need to wake up for a bit."

She didn't even move; for an instant, he was afraid the worst had happened and his heart leapt to his throat. Forcing himself to use a little common sense, he realized that not only was she quite warm, but that he could feel her breath along his side, almost tickling him. He let out the breath he'd been holding and began to shift from beneath her. Reaching up, he turned on the small light on the headboard to get a better look at her. Lifting one eyelid, like he'd seen the Keep do, he noted the blue sheen to her eye. That meant the chances of him waking her were slim to none at the moment. Kissing her on the top of her head, he pulled up the blanket draped across the foot of the bed and covered her. Then he got up, grabbed his slacks, and padded across the room to the kitchen.

Noting that is was not quite ten as he dressed, he opened the fridge and searched for food. It looked like Alyx had been on a cooking spree this week. Her freezer was stacked with neatly packaged leftovers that included reheating instructions written on the exterior. She had this tendency to over-cook when upset, but it had turned into a benefit since their schedules were sometimes -- all right, often -- unusual. There had been several occasions that they'd wandered in at some odd hour, starved, and simply tossed some of her homemade TV dinners in the microwave to eat. When she got really carried away, she'd give extras that didn't fit into her freezer to the rest of them.

Making his choices, he leaned against the counter and checked his wrist. The snake coiled there glared back up at him, equal parts red and green. He was going to need a shot before doing the job in a few hours, but was more than fine for the time being. Claire had put him back on the inhibitor -- a new one, actually, that had a more consistent release. No more of this sudden filling of his tattoo as it wore off. She was hoping that, if it worked well enough, they might be able to increase the time between non-quicksilver-use shots by at least another week. Their target length of time was a month at this point.

He was still hoping they could increase his see-through time, but those experiments weren't going as well. It was funny -- at one time, he couldn't have imagined himself wanting anything more than to get the gland out as soon as possible. Now he was just hoping to get fewer shots and more time invisible. When the hell had that happened?

Alyx began to mutter in her sleep, so he checked on her. Claire had said this would most likely occur, but it was an improvement over the acted-out hallucinations. Sitting beside her, he tried to reassure her that everything was all right. After a few minutes, she sighed and seemed to move back into a deeper sleep. While he was sitting there, he set the alarm for three AM. At the very least, he had to be there for the meeting at four. It was a good bet they'd make this attempt whether or not Alyx was conscious, and he was not about to force her to be there if she wasn't ready for it. Maybe that's why he hadn't told her about the plan. No need to dump more worries on her that were unneeded and unwarranted. He was perfectly capable of worrying more than enough for both of them.

The timer beeped in the kitchen to remind him that he was in the midst of preparing a meal. With a last gentle caress, he left Alyx to her slumber and whatever images were parading through her mind tonight. He could only hope they were more pleasant than they had been in the past.


	16. Chapter 16

Part XVI

The sound of voices raised in argument echoed off the cheap plaster walls as the six of them wrestled with the problem at hand. Bobby watched as Fawkes slouched down in one of the chairs, sipping at a cup of coffee. The Keep was looking her perky best for such a disgustingly early hour. She'd already given Fawkes a booster shot and checked over Alyx, pronouncing her condition unchanged. The drug was still in her system, was still making her cycle through its different effects, still leaving her without her powers far more often than not. The poor kid was actually still in the sleepy mode of her cycle, her eyes that funny blue color that the drugs caused.

He'd shaken his head at what she was wearing. Good thing she wasn't going out on this job; purple striped pajama pants and a crappy T-shirt just wouldn't cut it. It must have been the only thing Fawkes could get her into. He'd mentioned she'd still been mostly asleep when she'd dressed and had simply put on clothes that were comfortable and only slightly irritating. Heck, she had even forgotten shoes. She was the one pacing back and forth trying to convince her body to stay conscious until the next part of the cycle kicked in.

Claire watched her with a sharp eye but said nothing, which surprised Bobby. He'd thought sending her home was an insane idea, but it looked like it had worked, much as it had for Fawkes. He knew one night would not fix her problem, but it was a start.

Fawkes had this hint of a smile on his lips as he watched Alyx pace back and forth; Bobby would bet a year's pay that the two of them had finally worked things out. Once again they would be damn near inseparable when work was slow and they had the time. Much like himself and Claire these days.

Bobby came back from his musing in time to hear Drake make some comment about hacking into the SWRB's computer system. Alyx turned on him. "Listen Drake, use the damn program. It'll work." She had the two laptops talking to one another, loading her Destiny program onto his machine for this little adventure.

"I know it will, but it won't do any good. They'll discover it and it will just warn them that Fawkes and Hobbes are coming." Drake sounded way too smug for his own good.

Alyx rounded on him slamming her hands into the tabletop. "Idiot! I want them to spot you. I'll be piggybacking my signal on yours. Think you can learn to listen?"

Drake's mouth gaped like a fish's out of water.

"What?" she snapped.

Drake blinked and pointed at her. "Your eyes...they glowed."

Alyx stood back up and did... something. A moment later she sighed.

"Kid?" Bobby asked her with at touch of concern.

"Systems up and running, Hobbesy." She stretched her arms over her head and then turned to face the Official, who had remained behind his desk through the arguing. "I'm ready, boss."

The Official nodded. "Drake, you go with Fawkes and Hobbes and run the program from the van. You will coordinate between her and them." When Drake looked like he was going to protest, the Official glared at him and shut him up for the time being.

Drake grumbled and left the room to get the communications gear they'd need to do this.

"Boss, can't we take the kid? Let her run it from the van?" Bobby had a bad feeling about working with Drake. He wasn't as bad as Ms. Prickly, who refused to work with them at all, but he was a cocky know-it-all and was going to get himself flattened if he didn't change that attitude soon.

"Hobbes." It was Darien who spoke. "We can't let her near the place. It would be kind of obvious if we parked a van with a dozen agents around it to protect her, and if something went wrong you know she'd come in after us." He looked over at Alyx, who shrugged. It was true enough.

"Miss Silver stays here," the Official stated flatly, to end the discussion. "You will be supplied one dose of the counteragent as a precaution. It is not to be used unless necessary. Is that understood?"

"We know the routine," Darien commented, trying to ignore the callousness of the 'Fish's tone. The fact that he was allowing even one dose of counteragent along was somewhat surprising. A lot of times he'd made Darien wait until getting back to the Keep to receive a much-needed shot. Though since Alyx had put herself back together he'd become more lenient about the counteragent going out on jobs.

"Fawkes, this will be anything but routine. If you get caught there is nothing I will be able to do for you." The Official was more than serious.

"Not true, boss. You simply turn me over to them, in exchange," Alyx said brightly.

"That is not an option," Bobby snapped. There was no way in hell he'd let the kid trade her life for his, even with Fawkes in the mix.

"When I'm like this, it is. Another dose of the original drug won't really affect me." Alyx turned to the Keeper, who nodded in agreement. "And it's quite apparent they have no idea what I can really do."

"Miss Silver..." The Official's voice was soft and she turned to face him. "I appreciate your willingness to help, but I would prefer pulling this off without having to send you in. Just because this drug won't work again doesn't mean others won't."

"Alyx, we don't really want them to know what you can do." Darien's voice was tight with worry. It hadn't been that many hours ago that she'd been paralyzed with fear, and now she wanted to go trotting right into the hands of the very people who were trying to steal her away.

"Yeah, kid. It might be nice if we kept your 'abilities' a secret from someone." Bobby added, shaking his head. It seemed like every day someone new found out about her, it was a shame that most of them were bad guys.

"Well, Bobby I could always take out an ad, tell the entire world, and solve this whole secrecy thing." She was smiling at him, so he knew she was joking, but Drake, who had just walked in the room and had only heard the last part of the conversation, thought otherwise.

"Miss Silver, that would get you arrested. Do not even think about something like that." Drake was carrying several pieces of gear and moved to the table to set them down.

In perfect unison Bobby and Darien said, "Shut up, Drake."

"What is it with you people?" Drake snapped back. "Do you really think I'm a trained dog or something?"

"Not very well trained, that's for sure," Alyx commented dryly.

Drake stood up straight and took in a deep breath in preparation to respond, when the Official barked, "Drake, drop it."

Drake surprised everyone by turning to glare at the Official.

"Drake, I wouldn't if I were you. You don't want to repeat the Polantski incident do you?" Bobby had done a little checking up on their newest member. After Eberts, he wasn't going to trust anyone he hadn't checked thoroughly, and even then they would have to earn his trust. Though he had to give Drake credit for standing up to the Official. It wasn't looking like he was going to be the subservient type, no matter how the Official tried to intimidate him.

Drake rounded on Hobbes with to look of shock on his face. "You... You...."

"Enough!" Claire, the ever-levelheaded one, shouted. Silencing everyone. "Could you possibly stop bickering like children?"

"Thank you, doctor. Drake, set up the equipment. You have fifteen minutes." The Official attempted to take control back and, for a change, they allowed it to happen. "Fawkes, Hobbes, I expect Drake to be returned undamaged."

Alyx slid Drake's laptop, that she'd finished working on, over to him. "Destiny is up and running. The van's power is configured for the compy. If you have problems, talk to Bobby. He knows it pretty well."

Drake just stared at her for a moment and then looked over at Bobby. "Him?"

"Yeah, me. Who do you think is usually sitting in the van while the wonder twins do their schtick?" The jerk was beginning to irritate Bobby.

"Can we get this done? I would like to do this before the sun comes up." Darien got to his feet, swallowed the last of his coffee and headed towards the door. He detoured slightly and stopped next to Alyx, who smiled up at him.

"Is it my turn to say 'I've got your backs.'?" Alyx looked from one man to the other and patted Darien on the arm. "Get going, I'm on a time limit here." She turned to Drake. "I'll need five minutes once you're in; don't screw up the connection."

Drake snorted. "And just how long have you been doing this?"

Alyx looked at the Official. "He has read my file, right?"

The Official nodded. "So he said."

Alyx shook her head. "Get going, guys."

Both Bobby and Darien gave her meaningful looks, intending to reassure her that things would work out just fine, but neither succeeded very well. "Let's go, Fawkes, the kid ain't the only one on a time limit. And refilling your meter is expensive."

Drake had the program up and running, had the connection back to the office established, though he didn't like the fact that Miss Silver could override the program at any time. He'd made sure to complain about it, loudly, several times, but considering she was the one who had written it, he was coping.

"Drake, are we ready yet?" Bobby snapped at him. Dawn would be along soon, and they wanted to be out before then.

"Is he still being a jerk?" Alyx whispered in Bobby's ear.

Both Bobby and Darien were forced to hide snickers. Somehow Alyx had figured out how to talk to the two of them while bypassing Drake. They however could not comment without Drake hearing them and the man kept giving them odd looks every time they reacted to Alyx's colorful commentary.

"Drake, I'm ready to go." Alyx said at a normal volume and to all of them.

"Are you sure?" Drake was questioning her again.

"Just one little shock, please?" she muttered in Darien's ear.

"Drake, if she says she's in, she's in." Bobby turned to Fawkes. "All right Fawkes, time to show 'im your stuff."

With a sigh Darien moved to stand next to Hobbes and set a hand on his shoulder. With a little wave at Drake, he set the quicksilver to flowing over the both of them, leaving Drake staring at nothing. Together they moved off into the pre-dawn darkness. Bobby had parked in the neighborhood that backed up to the rear of the property the SWRB building sat on. They proceeded to cut through one of the yards, heading for the back where the ten-foot-high wall separating the two properties stood.

The first challenge, once in the back yard, wasn't climbing the almost-perfectly-smooth wall. A small dog came hurtling through the doggie door, a snarling, yipping bundle of fur and flying legs that apparently had no trouble at all spotting them. It danced around them, yipping and yapping in a high pitched tone that had to be one of the most annoying sounds ever created. When the beast latched onto Hobbes' ankle, it let go quickly with a yelp at the cold. It took a moment to stare at them in confusion before doubling its volume and efforts to wake the entire neighborhood.

"Maybe I should step on it and put it out of our misery," Bobby commented as they continued to the wall. The thing couldn't weigh more than ten pounds, including the fur.

"Is there a problem, Agent Hobbes?" Drake asked in a smug tone.

"No, Drake. Just a small re-enactment of the 'Hound of the Baskerville's'," Darien filled in, as he grabbed a lawn chair and carried it with them over to the wall.

The poor dog just about swallowed its tongue in surprise. It stood there staring at the object as it floated in mid air. The mystery mutt sat down and whined to express its total confusion.

"You think the beast can see us?" Hobbes asked in curiosity.

"Possibly," Drake answered. "Dogs see differently than humans, though at the very least he may be able to smell you..."

Alyx's voice interrupted. "He can definitely hear you. Could you maybe get over the wall before the owner comes out to see what the hell has his dog pitching a fit?"

Darien chuckled. Only Alyx could sum up the reality of the situation in such a dry tone. Darien set the chair down next to the wall and Hobbes stepped up. With a slight assist from Darien, he got to the top of the wall with relative ease. Setting one leg on either side he waited while Darien boosted himself up using far more upper body than lower body, only managing a small leap. Reminding Bobby that if trouble happened, Fawkes would not be running away from it. Both men hopped off the wall to land quietly in the grass on the other side. There were a couple hundred yards of ground to cover between the wall and the perimeter fence for the building. Once inside the fence it was another quarter mile to the building itself through several different types of security. It would actually have been easier to come in the front, but they wanted to avoid having the van being spotted by security, so had chosen this longer and more heavily guarded route.

"Okay, Drake we're over. Which way?" Hobbes said as they moved slowly towards the fence.

"Ummm, straight ahead, I guess. I have perimeter camera control. Let me know when you get to the fence." Drake sounded more than a bit unsure at the moment.

Hobbes stopped and set a hand on Fawkes' chest to get him to do the same. The quicksilver flaked away leaving the men standing there, not sure if the guy watching their asses had any idea what he was doing. "Drake, you did add Fawkes' tracker signal to the program, right?"

Drake muttered something that was more than a little derogatory, then Alyx's voice cut in. "It's on his screen. Move. Time's awasting."

"You do your job and I'll do mine," Drake snapped.

"As soon as he figures out how to do his," Alyx said, exclusively to Bobby and Darien. "Go ahead guys, I'll keep an eye on the situation."

They looked at each other and then together they headed for the fence. They trusted Alyx to do exactly that, even if she was also off doing other things. She had some specific things she intended to accomplish while in the SWRB system.

The worst part of the entire walk was the 'mine field' that ran through one section of the grass -- a ten-yard-wide swath that ran around the entire perimeter of the building. They couldn't jump over it and couldn't get around it. It contained a variety of different security measures, including pressure points, motion detectors, explosives, and electric shocks. Drake missed it, so Alyx had talked them through it step-by-step. By the end, Alyx was sounding more than a little strained and, when asked, explained she was simply multitasking. Getting past the heavily armed guards with dogs was far less nerve-wracking, even if it did require using more quicksilver than either of them liked.

Drake successfully overrode the security on the door and got them inside. Then he talked them deeper into the building, dealing with the security as they went until they finally arrived at the secondary computer room.

"You got the disks, Fawkes?" Bobby looked at his partner expectantly.

Darien reached into the interior pocket of his jacket and pulled up the case containing several disks and handed them to Bobby. "Alyx, we're in place," he informed her, probably needlessly.

A computer monitor blinked to life just a couple steps away and Bobby moved over to it. After a quick look-see he slid the first disk into the burner. "Ready, kid."

"Okay, Bobby, there should a password request on the screen." Alyx kept her voice very steady.

"Yeah."

"Type Alpha, Tango, Charlie 335643silver slash slash 554 Tango. You got that?" She seemed to find something amusing, but Bobby had no idea what.

"Got it kid." He was busy typing ATC33564silver///554T. "This is a new one. Where is this password from?" He watched the computer think about it for a long worrying moment and then blink, giving him more access than he thought possible.

"Hobbesy, if I told you that I would have to kill you," Alyx said in a dry tone. "Now, type in, under file request, Alpha Charlie 888970. That should pull up the file we want. Once you finish copying the data, you want to do a full wipe using code Roger 23 X-ray Foxtrot Zulu. Got that?"

He had already started transferring the data to disk. "Got it, kid. Looks like fifteen minutes for the download. Can you keep them distracted that long, Drake?"

"No promises, Agent Hobbes. They've already tried to purge the program twice, but no alarms have been sounded...yet." Drake answered honestly.

"Wonderful. We'll just sit here like bait and hope you can do your job, Drake." Darien couldn't help but needle the man; he'd been being such an ass since they'd arrived here.

"If something happens, I'll give you all the warning I can. You can always just quicksilver yourself and Agent Hobbes." Drake sounded way too confident for his own good.

Darien checked his wrist noting the tattoo was already half full, again. Having to do the two of them to get in here had used it up damn quick. Covering the mic with one hand he leaned over to talk softly to Bobby. "We made need another option to get out."

Bobby nodded. "I figured. If they catch on, being saran wrap won't make a bit of difference anyway. I'm betting these guys have thermals." He switched disks at the computers prompt and hit the enter key for the download to continue. "Quality stuff and not the pieces of crap we get."

The Director strode into the security room with a black look on his face. "This had better be good. I was supposed to be overseeing an experiment in facility II this morning."

"I think you'll be very interested, sir." The man pointed to the screen where agents Hobbes and Fawkes could both be seen. Fawkes was leaning casually against one of the desks while Hobbes was switching disks. "We let them in, just like you ordered, though that program has kept them hidden rather well."

"What files are they after?" The Director had a feeling he knew the answer and wasn't disappointed.

"AC888970. They used an override command that I've never seen before; it erased itself once it gained access." The security guy almost sounded impressed.

"Damn IAD overrides," the Director complained. "Where's their back-up?"

"Tracing their comm signal, we found him in the neighborhood behind the facility. I have a unit standing by to secure him." The man turned to look at the Director, who nodded.

"Do it. Discreetly. No need to upset our neighbors." The Director waited while the orders were given and watched as Fawkes and Hobbes continued stealing data out of the computer system. When Hobbes handed the case of disks to his taller partner, the Director knew they were done. "Let them think they are going to make it out and then grab them."

On the screen, Hobbes proceeded to key in something and the Director became instantly suspicious. Tapping a few keys on the machine before him, he called up what was going on with the computer in that room. When he realized what that particular code would do, he swore.

"Forget my last orders. Take them now."

Bobby finished keying in the code that should wipe the data they had downloaded, not only from this machine, but any source the SWRB had, and turned to Fawkes. "Done. Let's get the hell out of Dodge."

"Yeah, maybe pick up something to eat on the way back. I'm starved," Darien commented, heading for the door.

"Fawkes, do you ever stop eating?" Bobby queried with a laugh. "Drake, we're on our way out."

"It's the quicksilver, according to the Keeper. Speeds up my metabolism. All the adrenaline, you know." Darien swung open the door and moved down the hall while Bobby tried to contact Drake again.

"Drake, now is not the time to be screwing around. Respond. What's your sit-rep?" Bobby remained calm. It might be nothing more than the geek hit the wrong key and the radio was out.

"Hobbes? Problem?" Darien pushed at the door at the end of the hall looking at Bobby.

"Yeah, just a small one, I'd say." Bobby's hands had come up in the universal sign of surrender.

Darien turned his head to see not one, but several automatic weapons pointed at the two of them. "Aw, crap."

"An accurate summation of your situation," the Director said as he pushed his way through the armed men to stand before the two captured agents. "Oh, and we have your back-up. He fights like a girl apparently."

Bobby and Darien said nothing.

"After all this trouble, I'm not going to even bother offering to trade your worthless carcasses for the girl. Hand over the disks and this will go much faster." He made a hand gesture, and several of the armed men lowered their weapons, preparing to approach and take them into custody.

"Worthless? Did he just call me worthless?" Darien sounded offended. "Since when is seventeen million worthless?"

"Got me, Fawkes, though I'm sure the Fat Man would argue the point," Bobby tossed back. "Of course, this guy surely knows that he doesn't dare hurt us, not after the failure of his last two stunts."

"The 'Fat Man' knows that I can do anything I want. Toss the short one in a cage. Take him," he pointed at Darien, "to exam room three and secure him. I'm sure we can figure out how to remove that gland without too much effort."

Darien felt the blood drain from his face as the armed men moved to secure them. He really hated this part. Then an angel spoke from out of thin air.

"Dare, tell him if he does not release you, a program code-named 'Jehrico' will be activated," Alyx whispered in his ear.

Darien, ever one for the dramatic effect, raised a hand and wagged a finger at the Director. "Does the code name 'Jehrico' mean anything at all to you?"

The Director stiffened.

"Fawkes, what the hell are you doing?" Bobby hissed, not in the mood for one of his partner's smartassed and oft-failing ideas.

"Just listening to the little voices in my head, Hobbesy." He turned slightly so Bobby could see his face and lowered his voice. "Trust me."

For a second, Bobby thought Fawkes had gotten back on the gland train to madness, but then realized it might be the kid chattering in his ear. Fawkes still had the headset in place. So Bobby played along. "You really didn't think we'd come in here without a plan B, did you?"

"Yes, since it's usually Miss Silver who covers the contingencies. How is she doing by the way? Deep in a coma yet?" The Director covered his surprise at them knowing about 'Jehrico' at all. It was most likely just a lucky guess.

Darien managed to keep on his poker face when the Director admitted that he didn't know Alyx was up and about. He didn't know if it was a breakdown in communications or what, and didn't really care. They had an ace in the hole and were going to use it for all it was worth. "And what would Miss Silver have to do with any of this?"

"Well, you are trying to steal the files with the information on the drug I gave her. That kind of gives it away." The Director was anything but impressed with their attempts at distracting him. It was pitiful, to say the least. It was amazing that the Official had kept the Agency functioning with the two of them.

Alyx spoke up then. "Tell him the preliminary countdown has begun. Five minutes till it cannot be reversed."

"Not that the files will do you much good. Joshua's at the door and you have five minutes to bribe him to leave." It was Darien's turn to sound a bit smug. He wanted to chant 'I know something you don't know' at the bastard just for the reaction, but refrained.

"Fawkes, you know something we don't?" Bobby asked, and wondered why Fawkes suddenly looked at him and rolled his eyes.

The Director's eyes narrowed. "Bring them." He led the way back down the hall to the computer room Fawkes and Hobbes had been messing with. What was revealed on the monitors made him realize they were not bluffing. "How? We have your Destiny program off-line."

Darien shrugged. "We have our ways."

"Yeah, it's amazing what you can do with just a few lines of code," Bobby supplied, to confuse the issue even more. He was betting it was the kid who was messing with the computer system, as only she could.

The Director began typing, intending to shut down the self-destruct sequence. It would wipe the entire computer system with a controlled EMP blast whose effects would be felt only within the building. Every piece of electronics, including the computer system and dozens of R&D projects, would be fried. Somehow they had locked him out. Turning on the two men, he snapped, "Deactivate it."

Darien shook his head. "It's out of my hands."

Bobby glanced at the screen, noting the remaining time was only a little over two minutes. "Guess you better decide quick. Time is not on your side."

The Director glared at the two men for a long moment, then pulled out his cell phone and dialed. "Fat Man, I want to deal."


	17. Chapter 17

Part XVII

Alyx slammed open the door to the Official's office a couple of days later. It startled Drake, who allowed a hastily stifled 'eek' of surprise to escape as he jumped up from his chair, knocking it to the floor with a bang. Alyx was followed by Darien and Bobby, who both looked rather upset as well.

"Miss Silver, is there a problem?" the Official asked, without looking up from his desk.

"Problem? Oh yeah, try three guys jumping me this morning while I'm on my run. Damn good thing I was in the right part of my cycle. Made them pretty easy to flatten." She tossed the ID's of the men on the desk and he glanced at them. "They are currently sleeping in the cage in the basement."

"And you two are involved, how?" The Official looked at the two men who stood just behind Alyx.

"She called me. Her car wouldn't hold the mooks, so I picked up Fawkes and we brought them here in the van," Bobby answered. Alyx had calmed down a lot since she'd called him. She had been all set to storm any or all of the SWRB compounds and take them out once and for all, but he talked her down to a state of rationality and persuaded her to get showered and dressed while he and Fawkes hauled the slime balls in. According to Fawkes, she'd had a very bad night, with not one, but two panic attacks before she'd fallen asleep in complete exhaustion.

"When the hell did they figure out I was anything but a zombie?" Alyx asked as politely as she could manage.

The Official sighed and was about to answer when Drake interrupted, "According to our informants, yesterday."

"I didn't ask you, Drake." she snarled the man's name and shot a dangerous glare at him, making him snap his mouth shut on whatever he might have said next.

"Miss Silver, I've done everything I can." The Official wasn't faking his sympathy for a change. In fact, he seemed to be at his wits' end over the matter. "They won't back him, but they won't stop him either. We are now at war with the SWRB over you."

"Well that's not good," Darien commented as Alyx lowered herself into a chair. Darien moved up behind her and set his hands on her shoulders. He began to knead the muscles that were tight and stiff again. She'd had a terrible night last night. He knew. He was the one who'd held her all through it. Who'd kept her from leaving the apartment when she'd tried to smash her way through the door. The one upon whom she had finally fallen asleep, with tears still running down her cheeks, whimpering for it to be over. Darien wished there were more he could do for her.

"I will not live like this." There was no strength in her voice, like she was ready to give up.

"Kid, we'll protect you." Bobby moved up beside her. They were a team, partners, and they stood by each other through everything. Including this. Maybe especially this.

"Thanks Bobby, but what are you gonna do? Twenty-four hour guards? Never let me out on any jobs? Maybe confine me to the Agency?" She turned to look up at him. "All that will do is get other people killed. I won't have that."

"You have no choice, Miss Silver." Drake tried to sound like he was the one in charge, like he had rank over her, like he could dictate what she could and could not do.

Bobby and Darien exchanged a look. "Uh-oh."

Whatever the guys were expecting her to do, however, didn't happen. "Thanks for the reminder, Drake. It was just what I needed." She shrugged out of Darien's hold and left the office without another word.

Bobby moved to sit in the chair she had vacated; Darien paced over to the window and stared out. "Chief, what's our next move?"

"Our move? We have no move. In fact, I have an assignment for the two of you." The Official turned his head slightly. "Drake."

Drake started again. "Sir? Oh, yes sir." He picked up the file and opened it. "An Ian Devereaux is supposed to be arriving in town today. He..."

"You're sending us out on a job?" Darien sounded incredulous.

"Yes, Fawkes. Last time I checked you were an agent here, and the Keeper cleared you for light duty." The Official's tone left no room for argument, but that didn't stop Bobby.

"Who's gonna protect the kid?" He was hoping like hell the Official wasn't trying to get the two of them out of the way so that the SWRB could grab her without risking them.

"The Agency is more than capable of protecting her," Drake said, sticking his nose where it didn't belong once again.

Darien snorted. "They did a bang-up job this morning." He rubbed the back of his head, not wanting to yell at the man who had no idea yet of how low the Agency could sink, or how cheap they could be.

"She was told to stay with someone at all times. She failed to do so," Drake countered.

"Damn it, she needs some freedom!" Darien snapped and took two steps toward Drake, who did not look thrilled about it and backed away.

"Fawkes, killing the geek won't help the kid. Cool down." Bobby was trying to be the voice of reason for a change, as unusual as that might seem, mainly because he didn't want to have to deal with another toady coming in that he might dislike even more than Ms. Pritchard. Drake was okay; he just needed time to figure out his place in the scheme of things

"Fawkes, if you can get your act together you'll be done by this evening." The Official waited for Fawkes to get his head straight, then signaled for Drake to continue.

"Ian Devereaux...."

Darien walked into the Keep about thirty minutes later to find Alyx and Claire arguing rather loudly. Alyx had been backed into a corner, while the Keep was waving around a syringe of the large super economy size.

"Uh, Claire, could you not injure her too badly, please?"

Claire turned at the sound of Darien's voice and lowered the syringe. "What? Oh, this? This isn't for her." She stepped away, allowing Alyx to leave the corner.

"She's trying to talk me into going to a shrink and I keep telling her 'hell, no.' Apparently the good doctor is a little hard of hearing today." Alyx moved away and headed for the door of the Keep. "I have enough crap in my head without someone trying to shrink-wrap it."

"Alyx, hold up." He moved between her and the door, which now worked, thanks to Alyx. It had taken her all of thirty seconds to fix it. She sighed. "The Fat Man is sending me and Hobbes out; we should be done early this evening. Stay here, okay?"

"Stay here. You giving me orders now, too?" Alyx snapped at him and he steered her out of the room and down the hall a ways.

"You know that's not true. At least make them put in a little effort to grab you." All it took was his hand running along her arm to get her to relax a bit. "Catch a nap in your office, later. I know you didn't get enough sleep."

"Dare, I'll be nutso by the time you get back." She looked so tired that he was tempted to tell the 'Fish to screw himself and take her home, but knew better. She had to start dealing with this on her own, and she knew it as well.

"You'll be fine, Alyx." Darien rested his forehead against hers, just to comfort her for a moment. Now that he wasn't blocking her anymore just his presence seemed to be enough to help her. Or so she claimed.

"Fawkes, we have to go." Bobby came around the corner, hoping he wasn't going to be interrupting anything too interesting, and simply saw the two of them standing there being sweet at each other. It would have been nauseating, except that it happened here so rarely. He gave them credit for being very professional when at work. Off-duty? That was something else altogether. "Be on your toes, kid."

"Something going down, Hobbesy?" Alyx was still looking up at Fawkes who had stood up straight and turned to look at Bobby.

"Maybe," he shrugged. "A little paranoia never hurt, you know."

"And you would be the expert in that," Darien commented dryly.

"Don't you forget it, my friend. Kiss her good-bye and let's ride." Bobby waved at them; Alyx just shook her head and gave Darien a gentle shove to get him moving.

"I have work to do as well, while I can." Alyx slipped away from Darien and patted Bobby on the shoulder as she walked by him.

"Timing, Hobbes. You must improve your timing," Darien complained, as he joined his partner and they headed out of the building together. Once in the van and moving with the mid-morning traffic, he decided it might be nice to know what they were doing and where. "So what are we supposed to be doing with this Devereaux guy?"

"You didn't hear a word Drake said, did you?" Bobby should have known he'd pull something like this. It's not like it was the first time Fawkes had tuned out on the preliminaries and expected Bobby Hobbes to fill him in.

"Sorry, Hobbes, I was thinking about other stuff." Darien didn't sound the least bit repentant. He didn't want to be out working on some crappy assignment that smacked of busywork if there was the slightest chance there was going to be trouble back at the Agency. Trouble that would be sure to include Alyx. "Just tell me what I missed, okay?"

"Sure, but you won't like it." That was putting it mildly. When Drake had outlined the assignment, Bobby had thought it was joke at first, since there was no way his, their, lives could be so warped. But it wasn't a joke, so now they were headed right back to the place where this entire mess had started. "We're meeting Devereaux at the cruise ship dock. He's supposed to be arriving when the boat docks in about thirty minutes."

Darien stared at his partner openmouthed. "This is a joke, right? The 'Fish's version of gallows humor, or something equally as sick."

"No joke, Fawkes and it didn't come through F&G. I checked." He'd done more than ask -- he'd outright accused. Wanting to know if this was another set-up. "This is an Agency job and has been in the works for a while."

Darien was still shaking his head in disbelief. "I mentioned timing earlier -- well, the timing on this one stinks to high heaven."

"Tell me about it," Bobby muttered. "We meet the guy and he hands us a file, then we escort him to his plane and he's out of our lives. Then we can go back to ours." Fawkes was right, this assignment stank to high heaven, but near as he could tell it was also legit and left them with no real options. This was their life.

"You're sure they are gone? That she's accessible?" The Director was more than a little impatient. When he'd learned she was not only alive, but also awake and seemingly healthy, he knew he had to have her. Even after all the testing on the drug and the guarantee from his people that it could not fail, that it had worked time and time again on those with minor versions of her power, and that they had become swiftly dependent on the counter was not disputed. Yet, somehow, she was free of it. Wanting her for 'intelligence gathering' was becoming a minor issue. He wanted to study her, to duplicate her abilities -- which he was beginning to suspect were not as minor as telepathy -- to duplicate 'her' if her DNA was stable. That success would guarantee his place in history.

"Yes, sir. Fawkes and Hobbes left twenty minutes ago on an assignment that should keep them busy for several hours. They are being tailed as a precaution, with orders to distract them if necessary." The voice at the other end was confident of the situation. It was his job, after all.

"I'll be there in thirty minutes." The Director disconnected and set about to organize a few things, including a secure room that should be able to hold Miss Silver once they had her in custody.

He arrived with plenty of time to spare. It was amazing how all the black vehicles and black clad men were simply ignored by the members of the public. The block was sealed off and the Agency essentially isolated. There would be no warning. His men would secure the building and those inside and he would simply walk in and claim his prize, finally. His men were set and he was about to give the go-ahead when his cell phone rang.

"What?" he barked, into the hated piece of electronics.

"Back off." A stranger's voice ordered.

"Excuse me?" The Director was more than a little irritated. He had things to do and was not in the mood to deal with prank phone calls.

"I said, 'back off''. She is my property." The voice sounded cold, with carefully restrained anger.

"And who the hell do you think you are?" The Director was looking forward to putting this ass -- most likely a lackey of the Official's trying a pitiful scare tactic -- in his place.

The voice chuckled, sending actual shivers down the Director's spine. "I am Mirage."

That got the Director's attention. "I will need verification of that." He wasn't the only one to know about Mirage, or its new and far more dangerous form. But he was not about to let a simple name frighten him into giving up the girl.

"The wolf in sheep's clothing may be one of your own."

The Director froze as the code phrase was spoken softly in his ear. There was nothing he could do. This was the one group that even his charter would not protect him from. They could manipulate even the SWRB without even the Director knowing about it. "Understood." It was the only thing he could say. The only thing he could do. The line went dead and he picked up the radio. "Call off the raid."

"Sir?" The surprise in the man's voice was blatant and the Director could sympathize. He'd been trying to work this for months and it had now been yanked out from under them with one phone call.

"Do it. Recall them and get out of the area." This had not been part of the plan, but he would not subject his program to the scrutiny of Mirage. They were too damn dangerous.

"Yes, sir."

The Director signaled for his driver to leave. He still had other work to do.

__

A week later...

Darien groaned and opened his eyes to find Alyx leaning over him. The room was still dimly lit; a level of light that signaled it was not quite dawn yet and therefore far too early after the night he'd had.

He had gotten caught up in the middle of a shoot-out the day before. Literally. He'd gone into the abandoned office building over in Mission Hills to do his invisible spy routine and find out what one group of bad guys was offering to sell the other group of bad guys. Without warning, the two groups had decided they were better off being enemies and began shooting at each other.

Darien, not wanting to solve their little disagreement in order to get the information he needed, tried to beat a hasty retreat out of there, only to find himself trapped between the groups as they took poorly aimed potshots at one another. He'd ducked behind various stray pieces of office furniture and thin walls as he tried to make his way out, only to have shots impact near him time and time again. If he hadn't known better, he would have suspected that it was either a set up or that the quicksilver was actually attracting the bullets, like mosquitoes were attracted by the scent of sweat.

Bobby had come to his rescue, firing both of his guns at once, to clear a path for Darien to escape. The only problem with that had been that the bad guys' combined focus now swung to the intruders, and the cries of "Federal Agent" only seemed to inspire them to shoot faster and with far more accuracy than before.

It had been a long damn time since Darien had been that frightened; if it hadn't been for the fact he was already quicksilvered, he would have vanished in record time. So instead he had trusted his partner and followed his directions to get out of there, all the while waiting for a stray -- or far more likely, an intentional -- bullet to hit him in the back.

It hadn't happened, but it took a good five minutes after they had made it back to the van and driven away at breakneck speed for him to calm down enough to drop the quicksilver. By then, he'd been damn near Stage Three. He had submitted to his shot with ill grace; only Alyx's presence had convinced him to sit in the chair like a good boy, without having to be wrestled there. He'd only found out later that she'd been without her powers at the time, and her threats to secure him to the ceiling till he behaved had been empty ones.

He and Bobby had given their reports and been lectured for not fulfilling the mission, even though it had not been their fault. When Darien had left the office, he'd been angry as hell and not in the mood for company. He'd hopped into his car and taken off for a few hours to cool down. Eventually, though, he'd come back out of his mood and, after calling Bobby to apologize for his crappy behavior, headed to Alyx's place.

So it had been her arms around him, her voice calming him, when he'd woken up from nightmares. Nightmares about being shot, of not being able to move any part of his body, not just his legs. Waking up with his back aching, panting in fright. She had been unbelievably patient, and it made him wish, again, that he had let her help him when he'd been hurt, instead of believing he had to do it on his own. As Bobby would say, it was done, over with, water under the bridge. She hadn't held it against him and, if anything, they were now closer than before, were able to talk to each other a bit more, were less afraid of what they could do to each other, what pain they could cause each other and yet not drive the other away.

"Alyx, come back to bed."

"Uh, uh. We're meeting Bobby for a run, remember?" She was dressed for it, he noted. Exercise top, over which she wore a hooded sweatshirt. Pair of bike shorts under a pair of dark gray shorts with the F&G logo on them. He hadn't known there were clothes with the F&G logo on them. Blinking he realized the sweatshirt said the same.

She looked way too conscious for the little sleep she had gotten last night. She was doing so much better, her body's adaptive process apparently working like it should. The blue eyed, enforced sleep portion of the cycle had been the first to go and the time when she was without her powers and threatened with panic attacks had shortened dramatically. In fact yesterday had been the first time in two days she'd had her abilities crap out on her. He'd found out later she'd had a hated panic attack, but it had not been a very long one and Claire had managed to talk her through it. She'd never actually become completely unaware of her surroundings, a vast improvement over what could happen.

Reaching out he hooked an arm about her waist and pulled her onto the bed with him. A laugh escaping from her. "Come back to bed anyway. Bobby will understand." He searched her eyes and then kissed her. Thankful that their fears a week ago had been unfounded.

He and Bobby had returned to the Agency after seeing Devereaux onto his plane, expecting to be told Alyx was gone and that they would have to live with it. Instead, everything was fine. She'd spent the afternoon working on various projects and then shut herself in the padded room when a panic attack threatened. It had been her choice, much to his surprise. Once she'd come out of it, he'd gone to talk to Bobby and had the oddest feeling something was being kept from him. That something had happened while they'd been gone, but that he was not in the loop of need-to-know.

Since then, there had been no word from the SWRB, no watchers, no more attempts to grab Alyx. They hadn't left town, but it seemed their interest in Alyx had evaporated, and the Agency was now being left strictly alone. Darien wasn't sure what to make of it, but wasn't going to complain either. For the time being, they were free. No one hunting them. No one trying to use them, beyond the 'Fish's ever-present version of persuasion. No one but themselves keeping them here.

Darien sat up a bit more and took Alyx's hands into his own, turning them over so that the insides of both their wrists were visible. Her bruises had faded over the week, her sensitivity returning to normal. Their lives were also returning to some semblance of normality. The monitor that helped keep him whole, keep him sane, was still green, his body not yet having absorbed enough of the 'extra' to register upon it. The shot from yesterday afternoon once again working like it should. A small thing he was thankful for every day.

Alyx looked from him to their wrists and then back. "What? There's nothing there." She freed her hands from his gentle hold and ran her fingers lightly over his wrists. First following the circular route of the snake and then to trace over the small scar on the other. Soon it would fade to nothing, and only he and she would know the truth of what happened that day. Lifting his hand, she kissed the palm, causing him to draw in a shaky breath.

She wasn't entirely right. The shackles were there, invisibly, on both of them. Chains holding them here, for the Agency, for the Fat Man, for good or ill. But, for the first time since his had been fitted about his wrists, they no longer weighed upon him, upon his mind.

"Dare, you promised," she reminded him, trying to sound angry and failing. "Do you want to have to go back to the treadmill in the basement?"

Darien shook his head. He'd been getting bored as sin down there and had talked Claire into trusting him with the therapy and weekly check ups, instead of daily ones. She had agreed so long as he worked out with someone. Today was the first day going running with Alyx; he'd been surprised to learn Bobby ran as well, and they had decided to make a threesome out of it.

"'Sides, we get to come back here after and shower. If you're good, I might even let you wash my back." Alyx grinned and got up from the bed, walking out into the apartment. "But you better hurry."

"Not fair. Blackmailing me," he grouched, but her form of persuasion was effective as he threw off the covers and got out of bed.

Her laughter rang through the place, making him smile.

__

An old Persian Proverb states, "It is better to be in chains with friends, than to be in a garden with strangers." The hard part is learning the truth of this simple statement, because the chains are most often those of your own making and you have to be willing to wear them. Holding the keys to one's chains is sometimes more important than being free of them.

Finis


End file.
